


Blind Faith

by Salazar101



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood, Broken Bones, Fighting, Jack has some abelist thinking towards himself, Lovers to enemies to lovers, M/M, Masturbation, Old Married Couple Bickering, Threats of torture, blind!jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:20:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21647437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salazar101/pseuds/Salazar101
Summary: Soldier: 76 was born on the day Jack Morrison died, but he's hiding a secret behind his visor.  He's gone completely blind.  During a fight Reaper destroys his visor and suddenly Soldier must place his faith in the man who betrayed them all.  Soldier has to discover just how much of Gabriel Reyes remains behind the mask, and how much of Jack Morrison actually survived.
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Comments: 46
Kudos: 337





	Blind Faith

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in the work for MONTHS. SO MANY MONTHS. So I am extremely excited to finally share it with everyone. 
> 
> This would be a much weaker fic without the INCOMPARABLE [Airafleeza](https://twitter.com/airafleeza) who not only created the art associated with this fic but ALSO served as its beta. It would be a weaker fic without her so please visit her for more amazing art and excellent personhood.

The ruins of Swiss HQ crumbled behind him. The air was thick with smoke and dust, choking and smothering him as he stumbled away, leaving him unsure of where he was going or even really what just happened. It started with a thrown punch and ended with an explosion, but everything seemed blurry right now. His hearing was shot, ringing so loud he could hear nothing else as it tried to repair itself, and he could taste blood on his lips from the slashes on his face. Everything was gone in a flash, but he was smart enough to know that termites had hollowed them out long before the collapse. If only he’d paid more attention. If only he hadn’t let his love blind him, even when it was at its most bitter.

Jack Morrison collapsed in the grass of the hills surrounding the base, staring up at the sky as his eyes itched and burned. They felt gritty and full of dirt. He wasn’t sure how he’d survived. He remembered fire and concrete, he remembered Gabriel ripped away from him as the floor fell out from under their feet and they tumbled away into darkness. Jack didn’t remember much about clawing his way out of the debris even as it continued to settle while people screamed and wailed from inside the wreckage. Jack Morrison would have moved hell and high water to save them, but whoever he was now had just kept crawling.

Jack Morrison was dead, he realized as he stared up into the sky. He blinked blearily and forced himself back to his feet, wanting to be gone before anyone could find him out here. Jack Morrison was useless--he’d let Overwatch fall, he’d let himself be betrayed. He was no longer a commander but simply a soldier, a soldier who could find more answers in the shadows than a strike commander ever could in the light. On the other side of the hill, he stumbled to a stop next to a river snaking lazily through the green Swiss landscape.

Soldier stripped off the ruined blue coat, the armor--everything that tied him to Jack Morrison-- and tossed it into a river, gone forever. His friends would mourn, if they were his friends, if they hadn’t also betrayed him, but if there was one thing all soldiers knew how to do it was mourn. They’d move on. Soldier himself didn’t need to mourn, no. He did not mourn Gabriel or Angela or Lena. Soldier had no friends and no family, he loved no one. He sought answers and nothing more.

Soldier could even believe that sometimes when he was at his most miserable, lying in barns and trying to heal up enough to properly travel, waiting until his wounds scarred. Then he looked into a mirror and it felt like his entire world cracked down the middle and a fist clenched around his heart. Had Gabe been scared? Had he called for Jack? They’d fought so much there at the end, but still... it haunted him, to think about Gabe trapped and alone in the darkness.

Soldier avoided mirrors. He was too delicate right now, the shell he was building too thin.

The real trouble started when he picked up a newspaper and found he was having a hard time focusing on the words. He’d move it closer then further, and either way his eyes struggled to focus. The words would shift like waves over a beach until he had a headache just trying to read it. The problem didn’t seem to exist when he could make the text as big as he needed it, so he got a data pad with his limited funds.. He chalked it up to getting old, and if he wasn’t a dead man, he’d go get glasses. At first that really was all it seemed to be, and when he stole his pulse rifle and tactical visor, the issues became less obvious. The visor was highly advanced, gave him perfect sight, and was worn constantly. Often he slept in it, crouched in alleyways and hugging his pulse rifle like it was a child. Soldier: 76 had one job and one job only: root out the rot that had destroyed Overwatch. But, as he was finding out, that rot had spread all over the world.

One year passed after the explosion, then another. Soldier would take off his visor sometimes and be startled by how blurry everything was, how spots started to dart through his vision. No amount of hard blinking would clear them. They stayed, growing into blind spots. Soldier caved three years after the fall of Overwatch and visited a discreet optometrist in Italy.

He contacted the man online first through an encrypted email and met him in the alley behind the clinic after hours. Soldier had to give him all the money he’d saved up to that point, but it was worth it to him to have confirmation. Or perhaps a treatment. Some part of him still held onto hope that this might not be what he thought it was.   
  
Soldier was led into an examination room and sat down. The doctor didn’t speak much English and Soldier didn’t speak much Italian, but they knew enough of both to get by. The doctor gestured at the visor and made a motion that indicated he wanted it removed. This was so stupid, he shouldn’t be  _ showing _ his face to anyone, but still Soldier carefully unclicked the mask and visor and removed it. His vision was swimming with growing blind spots, but he could still make out the form of the doctor, though he was blurry. 

“Let us see,” said the doctor, pulling out a pen light and tapping his right ear lobe. Soldier stared at his ear as the light was shone into one eye and then the other. There were machines he looked through, lasers flashed in his eyes, and at the end of it all, the doctor had him put his visor back on.

“So?” Soldier grunted as his vision sharpened in shades of red.

The doctor shook his head. “I am sorry. Degenerative...uh... cornea damage. No treatment.”

Soldier felt it like a punch to his gut; he’d been afraid of it, but to have it confirmed was somehow worse.

He was going blind.

**FIVE YEARS AFTER ZURICH**

“I would ask if you thought this was wise, but I’m not sure you ever think that far ahead.”

Even if Soldier hadn’t had his visor on he would have heard, rather than seen, the disapproval on Ana’s face. He had the bottom half of the mask removed and gave her his best charming smile, but he didn’t think it worked as well without the cornflower-blue eyes. According to Ana, they were a cloudy fog-color now. Not the kind of eyes that could charm people.

Not that Ana was susceptible to his charms, even when he had been young and beautiful.

“I’ll be careful,” Soldier insisted, grabbing his pulse rifle and throwing the strap over his shoulder, “I just need to check out this Talon warehouse. If there are servers with information on Talon leaders and their locations, it’ll be worth it.”

“It’s probably a trap,” Ana warned, following him like a wasp as he wandered from one room of their abandoned apartment to another. They were holed up in a dilapidated building with the French countryside rapidly overtaking them. No one around for miles, this area had been trashed during the Omnic Crisis and never repaired. Just to the east of them sat Brest and, beyond that, the Atlantic. 

“You think everything is a trap,” said Soldier without looking at her. He slipped some biotic fields into the strap at his arm. A good soldier was prepared for anything.

“Only because you’re so good at running into them,” she replied, a bit snidely. “C’mon, Jack, let me go with you. I’ll cover you.”

“No, it’d be a waste of resources; we have reliable information that Widowmaker is at Château Guillard. Coming after me could ruin that lead.” When Soldier walked to the door and finally turned around to face Ana, he was surprised to see how worried she looked. 

“What if I am more afraid of losing  _ you _ ?” she asked. Ana reached out and placed a hand on his arm, staring up into his visor, trying to meet eyes she couldn’t see through the red light.

Soldier sighed, placing his hand over hers. “Ana, it’s going to be fine. I was alone for years before we saw each other again. I swear, I’ll meet you in Annecy.” Many years ago, in another lifetime, they’d sat at a quaint little bakery and eaten macarons by the dozens. Well, he and Gabriel had. Ana had nibbled a more reasonable amount. It was a place they’d returned to several times whenever they found themselves in Annecy and would serve as a rendezvous. 

This would be the first time going there without Gabriel.

“You are infuriating,” Ana huffed, but her hand dropped. “If I don’t see you there then I’m going to find you, raise you from the dead, and kill you.”

Soldier laughed as he grabbed the bottom half of his mask and clicked it into place. “Yeah, I’m counting on it. Travel safe, see you in a few weeks.”

He left the building and Ana’s disapproval behind. Annecy was only a four hour flight from here and they’d managed to secure funds for Ana’s ticket, but Soldier would have to find his own way. Not to mention flying was always a difficult proposition. What if he was recognized despite his numerous fake IDs? Airports in bigger cities had biotech scanners, but twice he’d been taken by surprise in little ones and been forced to slip out of line. 

It was less of a problem for Ana. Her name had mostly been forgotten by all but the most hardcore of Overwatch fans. But Jack Morrison? That was a name that would raise alarms. Soldier preferred to walk, drive, or take the train wherever he was going. Today he jogged into the rolling hills, pulse rifle bouncing against his back as he covered ground faster than an Olympic sprinter.

Soldier had always been fast. He’d been the star of track and field in high school and the fastest recruit on base when he’d enlisted. However, first day at SEP, Gabriel had blown past him so fast that Jack had pushed himself until he vomited trying to keep up. He wasn’t used to feeling slow. Gabriel had only been in the program for five months at that point, and they’d been competitive since day one even when there was no contest.

A few months into the program and its gut-churning shots, Jack was once more ahead of the pack. Gabriel had always been able to lift more, and Jack ran laps around him on the track. Strength and speed--they’d made a perfect team. 

Soldier shook his head, forcing the memories away like a man brushing smoke out of his face. That was all in the past now. Thinking about Gabriel as he had been and not as he was... it hurt too much. Soldier had tried to cut every tie, but finding Ana had ruined that a little. She called him Jack, worried about him, and talked about old times.

While it made being Soldier hard, it made it twice as hard to be Jack. Jack was broken, dead, betrayed. Soldier didn’t want to be that man, didn’t want to remember Gabriel. He wanted to hunt the Reaper. He wanted it to be simple, to be black and white. Soldier slowed to catch his breath. He was getting close and needed to be stealthy now. He walked, eyes scanning the countryside until they landed on a building in the distance. His visor whirred and zoomed in. It looked abandoned, but Soldier knew better. If Talon was using it, agents would be keeping guard.

A contact had told him that important Talon servers were kept out here, and they’d sent him a data pad to extract the information. It’d be up to him to figure out what to do with it. Soldier blinked and the visor returned to normal so he could pay attention to where he was walking.

He’d grown accustomed to seeing everything in shades of red, but he could imagine how the countryside looked without it. It was night time so the green hills would be blue. Blue: there was a color he missed. It had been his favorite once upon a time. Ana was always telling him after the fighting was over he could get cybernetic implants, like the one she’d once had, but those sorts of surgeries were expensive and rare for civilians. Ana’s had been funded by the Egyptian government; Soldier didn’t have that luxury. He was lucky to have his visor.

As he got closer, he got down on his belly, silently crawling through the damp grass until he could lay on the hill and watch the building. Ana always accused him of charging into traps, but tonight he lay and just... waited. Soldier didn’t see a hint of movement, not after an hour and not after two hours. Three hours and he knew he’d have to move now or risk the sun rising. Maybe there really wasn’t anyone here, but that didn’t seem right. Not if it was full of important servers like his contact had told him, not if this held the key to taking down Talon.

That meant one of three things: either his contact had set a trap, the servers weren’t as important as he’d been led to believe, or his contact was playing their own bizarre game and he was a fool for trusting them. Ana would probably go with one and three.

Soldier tried to figure out what he should do from here. The part of him that spoke in Ana’s voice told him to turn around and head back, just make for Annecy and consider this mission a bust. He didn’t want to do that. If this information existed, Soldier wanted it and wanted to believe that his contact was reliable. They’d given him so much vital intel already. To have the full names and locations of all the top Talon members could be enough to take down the entire organization. His contact had given him little snippets here and there, small-timers and smugglers, but this... this could end the fight once and for all. The little sugar skull that signed off every encrypted email hadn’t led him wrong yet.

_ It’s a fucking trap. You’ve been lured into a trap and they were just being good to set you up. _

It was a risky game for his contact to be playing if that was the case. Soldier and Ana had taken out plenty of players in Talon with the information his contact had given him--unless they had actually been nothing more than grunts.

Ana was wearing off on him; he didn’t used to spend this much time doubting himself. Soldier ignored her sensible advice and crawled closer to the warehouse, pausing every now and again to listen closely. Nothing but the wind through the grass, bugs skittering, and birds chirping. No voices or sounds of feet scuffing on concrete. He  _ could _ sort of hear a vague electronic whirring noise, which he hoped meant the promised servers were in the building.

Soldier moved slowly. No more jumping walls and getting shot in the back. There was no Ana to swoop in and save him here. The closer he got the easier it was to hear the whirring, which soothed some of his fears that this was a dead end. When he finally made it to the door, back pressed against the wall, he waited to see if he could hear anything more. Nothing. Not a soul. Soldier tried the door and found it...unlocked. _Fuck._ _S_ omething wasn’t right here. He waffled about going inside but decided the risk was worth the reward, and if it turned out his contact had betrayed him... well, he’d find them next.  
  
Soldier slipped inside, keeping to the shadows and trying to make as little noise as possible. There were servers in here, but they didn’t seem to be guarded by anyone. The entire building was eerily deserted. Alarms went off in his head even as he stuck the data pad to one of the servers, hand tight on his rifle as he kept an eye out for Talon agents while the data downloaded.

The longer nothing happened, the worse Soldier felt, hands sweating in his gloves. Sweat trickled down his back between his shoulder blades. The data pad beeped behind him and he quickly grabbed it and shoved it into his jacket. He was going to get out of here, he was going to steal a car and drive to Annecy--

Soldier fell to his knees as he saw something from the corner of his eye, and not a moment too soon; there was an ear-ringing shotgun blast aimed right where his head had been. The Reaper had arrived silently. Had he been set up or had he set off an alarm? Soldier threw himself behind a server as Reaper snarled and fired again, sparks flying as the shards hit the server he had his back against.

“Well well well, what are you doing here, Jack?” 

“Enjoying a vacation in the French countryside,” Soldier snapped. He caught movement in the corner of his visor and lunged for it, slamming the butt of his rife into Reaper’s mask and kicking him in the gut. His foot lost resistance as Reaper suddenly wraithed backwards, causing Soldier to stumble or else risk doing the splits.

“Oh, I’m going to make you regret that,” Reaper snapped, appearing behind him lightening fast. Soldier threw himself into a roll and fired rockets behind him, visor highlighting where to aim. The rockets passed right through Reaper as he ran towards him, and now Soldier was on one knee as Reaper reached out for him with a clawed glove. Soldier dropped the rifle and threw himself at Reaper, arms wrapping around his middle and tackling him to the ground. He heard the massive shotguns hit the concrete with a clatter as clawed hands grappled with him. Soldier punched at the cracked mask even as Reaper hauled back and hit him in the solar plexus.

Something cracked and pain shot through him. “Gabe!” Soldier grunted. He grabbed Reaper’s wrists and pinned him, glaring down into his cracked mask.

“Going to kill me, Jack?” Reaper whispered darkly. “I’m afraid you’ve been beaten to the punch. I’m already dead.”

“Not dead enough.” Soldier let go of Reaper to grab the handgun strapped to his thigh. Reaper’s body was hot and solid between his thighs, and it was hard to forget that the man under him was--had been--Gabriel Reyes. 

Either Soldier hesitated or Reaper was too fast for him. All Soldier knew was one moment he was grabbing his gun and the next he was being punched in the face, visor crackling and vision swimming as he hit the floor.

Their positions were reversed in an instant, but Soldier didn’t have the ability to turn to smoke as Reaper pinned him down against the ground, thick thighs squeezing around Soldier’s aching chest. He struggled to get free, grappling with Reaper’s hands only to be punched in the face again, stars bursting into his vision like blood-red fireworks. He groaned, cursing himself for not turning back earlier. It was a fucking trap after all, goddammit!

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” Reaper was practically panting as he pulled up one of his shotguns and placed it against Soldier’s temple. “Should have done it years ago, put you out of your misery.”

Claws scraped along the seam of his visor and Soldier tried to jerk his head away, only to have his temple hit Reaper’s shotgun. “Then fucking do it!” he snarled, trying to keep Reaper’s hands off his visor. He stared up into the cracked mask and felt hatred bubble up in his chest, nearly suffocating him with its intensity. 

“I will, as soon as you see what you let happen to me,” Reaper nearly purred, his claws still scrabbling along the mask, as if searching for something. Soldier felt ice drop into his stomach as he realized what Reaper was trying to do just as he succeeded. In one hard motion the mask was ripped off his face and the world went dark. There was an awful crunching noise and the sound of breaking glass.

“Look into my eyes, J--!”

Reaper’s words ended in a shocked choking sound.

Soldier blinked hard as if that would clear away the blackness, but he could see nothing. He reached up to put his hands on Reaper’s thighs, trying to shove him off and, shockingly, he succeeded with no resistance. Reaper had fallen completely silent.

“You absolute fucker,” Soldier hissed, feeling along the ground for the shards of his mask.

“What happened to you?! Is this a fucking joke?!” Reaper was back on him, shoving Soldier onto his back and leaning in until he could feel his hot breath on his face. 

“Wouldn’t be very funny now would it?” Soldier sneered. He got the distinct feeling that Reaper wasn’t wearing his mask. Claws grabbed him by the chin and tilted his head this way and that as he scowled in Reaper’s general direction. If he could find his gun he could still fire. He could hear Reaper, he could feel Reaper... and he’d trained himself to reload his weapons without his sight. The real question was how he’d get out of the countryside and back to civilization.

“You can’t see me.”

“I can’t see fucking anything!” He was getting tired of this fucking song and dance. “You destroyed my goddamn visor!” Soldier fumbled around to try and find his rifle or handgun, and only found one of Reaper’s massive shotguns. As his hand curled around the barrel, it was kicked off into the distance and his wrist was pinned to the floor.

“What happened to you, Jack?” Reaper sounded... furious? Upset? Soldier couldn’t place the emotion behind his words.

“What do you care? Weren’t you going to kill me?” Soldier would welcome death if it meant Reaper would stop toying with him. He’d done his best with borrowed time; he probably should have died in Switzerland all those years ago. Only fitting that Gabriel should finish what he’d started. With Ana was on the case, she’d continue his work, right?

Making up his mind to stare death in the face unflinching, he glared in the direction of Reaper’s voice. He felt Reaper’s weight shift and heard him pick his guns up off the floor. Any moment now all his senses would shutter out just like his sight had. Any moment he’d hear one last roar and then nothing. Or maybe he’d die so fast he couldn’t hear anything at all.

Reaper’s weight lifted off of him and Soldier held his breath, eyes darting wildly, trying to follow the sounds. A heavy boot kicked him in the ribs and he grunted, curling up in pain. 

“Get the fuck up,” Reaper growled. “We’re leaving.”

“What?” Soldier wheezed before being being kicked again. He groaned and curled up tighter.

“I said get up!”

“What, you want to kill me in the grass?!” Soldier lashed out blindly and punched Reaper right in the knee. The resulting scream was a victory for Soldier until a clawed hand curled in his hair and yanked his head back painfully.

“Oh, I  _ am _ going to kill you, Morrison.” Reaper’s hot breath washed over Soldier’s face; it had a faint whiff of decay, a rancid sweetness. “But I want you to see me first. You’ll look me in the fucking eye when I pull the trigger.”

Soldier hissed as he was hauled to his feet by the hair, hand grabbing Reaper’s wrist to try and prevent his hair from getting yanked out of his head. He didn’t have that much more to lose. He stumbled a little when he was let go, hand coming out and finding one of the servers to steady himself.  _ If I could find my guns… _ he thought, only to hear his pulse rifle being picked up and the crunch of metal as Reaper destroyed it.

That gun had been his only companion for many years; it was a part of him. The sound of Reaper splintering it was a punch in the chest. Soldier took a deep breath and decided it wouldn’t do any good to run or fight right now. Maybe he could use Reaper to get close to civilization and make a break for it. He let his hand slide over the server as he carefully walked around it, vaguely remembering where the door was.

There was nothing Soldier hated more than feeling dependent on someone else. He separated from his anchor and held his hands out, seeking the wall of the warehouse so he could slide his fingers over it until he found the door. Where the hell was Reaper? Soldier couldn’t hear him anymore, not even his breathing. All he heard was the sparking of the destroyed server and the whirring of the remaining ones. Which reminded him... he still had the data pad in his jacket. He and Ana could use this data if it was any good.

“So where the hell are you going to take me? That visor was one of a kind,” Soldier said gruffly as his fingers finally found the wall and he moved towards the door... assuming he wasn’t completely turned around.

“I’ll have it repaired by Widow. She works on her own gear.”

Soldier jumped and swore as Reaper’s voice came from right behind him. Was he just standing back and watching him struggle? Bastard. Soldier kept his expression carefully schooled but on the inside he was whooping with joy. This fucking idiot was going to take him exactly where he needed to go, right under Ana’s scope. In Annecy, he stood a chance. 

Soldier managed to find the door and slipped out into the cool air, unable to tell if the sun had started to rise or not. He had never been forced to face his own blindness before, not really. Not with the visor. Without his sight, could he really be Soldier: 76? He couldn’t shoot, couldn’t aim, couldn’t fight unless someone got close enough for his hands to wrap around their throat.

Reaper growled from beside him. “Don’t try to fucking run. If you’re too much trouble, I’ll kill you before we get there.”

Soldier looked around fruitlessly, as if he could tell where he needed to go from here. Reaper didn’t make any noise at all, and Soldier hesitantly reached out only to find no one was next to him.

Up ahead, Reaper snarled. “Keep up!” 

“I’m fucking blind!” Soldier snapped as he carefully walked in the direction of Reaper’s voice. “If you don’t make noise I can’t follow you! Were you always this stupid or did dying wipe out all your brain cells,  _ Gabe _ ?”

There was a moment of silence where Soldier wondered if he was going to get shot or punched. A tight grip curled around his wrist and yanked him forward so hard that Soldier nearly fell over with a gasp. “Dammit, Gabe!” he yelled, stumbling after him as his feet caught on the uneven ground.

“This is going to take for-fucking-ever!” Reaper nearly howled in frustration, letting Soldier go and stomping away. He would kill to see the tantrum going on a few feet away. He crossed his arms over his chest and waited for Reaper to get it all out of his system.

“Should have thought about that before destroying my visor,” Soldier said snidely as Reaper swore up a storm.

The swearing was growing more distant and Soldier dropped his arms. Was Reaper just going to...leave him here? Alone? In the darkness? He wasn’t afraid, Soldier didn’t feel fear. Jack had known fear and Jack was dead. He tried to control his breathing, tried to keep from calling out to Reaper. He could smell hay, musty, feel it scratching against his face--

“Here, you blind fuck.”

Soldier jumped as something was shoved into his chest. He reached up to grab it and found it was... a stick? A really long stick. “Oh,” he said, holding the thickest end. It was an impromptu probing cane. He waved it through the grass. It wasn’t ideal, but it gave him  _ some _ semblance of independence. Reaper locked their elbows together and started to walk. He wasn’t slow, but using the probing stick, Soldier was able to keep up with him without stumbling.

This was going to be a long goddamn trip.

They walked for hours, hours, and hours. Without being able to see the sky, Soldier couldn’t really tell for how long. Eventually he stopped, too exhausted to keep going, and dug his heels in when Reaper tried to yank him forward. “You may not need to sleep but I do,” he said stubbornly, tempted to smack Reaper with his probing stick but a little afraid of it getting broken.

Reaper let out sound of disgust like nothing offended him more than Soldier’s own mortality. “You used to be able to go for four days and nights without stopping.”

“I’m not twenty anymore,” Soldier said, letting Reaper pull him again. They walked up a small rise where Reaper pushed him and Soldier’s heels caught on a rock and sent him crashing to the ground with a wheeze of pain. His sternum probably wasn’t broken anymore--he still healed damn fast--but his whole body felt like one big bruise. Soldier fumbled to find the probing stick and only then did he push himself up to sit cross-legged, ears straining to hear what Reaper was doing now.

There was the shuffling of feet, and Soldier realized Reaper was intentionally making sound for him.  _ Why _ was the question that kept echoing in Soldier’s head as he sat and listened to Reaper’s movements and complaints about having to take care of everything himself. There was a clicking sound and warmth blossomed over his face as sticks and logs started crackling.

This was weird, right? Soldier had asked to stop for the night, but he hadn’t asked Reaper to start a fire for him. He reached into his jacket, ignoring the data pad and instead pulling out a tasteless energy bar to eat. It would keep him going, even if it wasn’t filling or particularly enjoyable. Did Reaper need to eat, too?

“I’ll keep watch.” Reaper sounded like he was sitting across from him. “So get some fucking sleep so we can move.”

“Why are you doing this?” Soldier asked between bites of his tasteless bar.

“I told you,” Reaper grunted. “I want you to see me before I kill you,” 

“I could  _ see _ you now and we could stop wasting our time.” He held up his gloved hands and wiggled his fingers. Soldier didn’t want Reaper to kill him, but he wanted to know exactly how thick this ice they were dancing on was.

“I’m only staying here for a few hours. If you don’t sleep then you don’t sleep.”

Interesting. Soldier finished his bar and shrugged off his jacket, bunching it up for use as a pillow as he lay on the hard ground. Back in the day, he and Gabriel used to sleep in rubble for weeks during the Crisis. As a vigilante, Soldier was used to sleeping just about anywhere. However, despite his exhaustion, sleep did not come easy. Soldier couldn’t hear Reaper over the crackle of the fire, but he had to be nearby. Was Soldier  _ really _ going to sleep with his greatest enemy beside him?

Did he even have a choice?

Soldier wasn’t sure if he slept or not. It felt like between one blink and the next there was an armored boot kicking him in the back. He hissed and rolled over, slapping back to try and shove Reaper away from him. “Goddammit, you piece of shit...” He sat up, fumbling for his jacket and sliding it over his shoulders. What time was it? God knows Reaper wasn’t going to tell him. Soldier rubbed the sleep from his eyes and felt around in the grass until he found his probing stick, holding it tightly as he stood up.

“Look at you,” Reaper taunted, “a fumbling old man... what has time done to you, Jack?”

“I can still kick your ass, fucker,” Soldier growled, slowly reaching out until he could feel Reaper’s chest, fingers brushing over the fat shotgun shells strapped there. His hand was caught and wrenched away, claws digging into his skin.

“That’s not how I remember it,” Reaper said, hooking their arms together and dragging Soldier forward. Soldier stumbled until he managed to get his feet under him, stick brushing back and forth in front of him as Reaper set a harsh pace. “If I recall correctly, I was always pinning your skinny ass against the mats.”

“Then you have a selective memory.”

Soldier twisted his arm and enjoyed Gabriel’s grunt of surprise before they fell. When they hit the ground it was with Soldier straddling his hips, his massive belt digging right into Soldier’s inner thigh. If only he could see the look on Gabriel’s fucking face! 

He felt those thighs tense and Soldier rolled before he could get punched, the rush of a fist passing over his head. Gabriel snarled and Soldier grunted as he failed to block the next move that ended with him flat on his back, Gabriel’s hot breath on his face and warm, heavy body sitting over his hips. 

“Don’t fucking test me,” Reaper said, his voice a low warning, “or I’ll kill you here and now.”

Soldier bared his teeth. “Please, Gabriel Reyes giving in so easy when he’s already set his mind on the drama? I doubt it.”

There was an unsettling chuckle, like a dark and heavy wind through the branches of a dead tree. “I’m no more Gabriel Reyes than you are Jack Morrison. Don’t count on a man who crawled out of the grave to be the same one who entered it.”

Soldier reached up without thinking, reaching towards Reaper’s face. Under his gloved fingers he could feel the give of flesh before Reaper’s weight suddenly disappeared above him with a snarl. All at once a boot slammed down on his chest and it took everything he had not to scream in pain as Reaper pressed down, grinding Soldier into the dirt like he was no more than a bug.

“You fucking touch me like that again and I’ll rip your arms off!”

Soldier could only wheeze.

The boot disappeared and he curled up, hands coming up to his chest.  _ God-fucking-dammit _ . Strong hands hauled him to his feet, and Soldier heard Reaper chuckle darkly just behind him as he stumbled over uneven ground. His probing stick was shoved into his aching chest and they were off again, this time in silence.

There were few distractions. He could only smell the grass they walked on or hear the crunch of gravel as Reaper took them on an uneven country road. He mulled over the entire situation and tried to figure out what Reaper was doing. After a few hours of endless walking, Soldier decided Reaper’s motivation didn’t make any sense.

For one, they were walking. Talon had the resources to get to Annecy faster, so clearly Talon couldn’t get involved. Whatever Reaper was currently doing would be considered... perhaps not going rogue, but certainly against regulation. Talon wanted Soldier: 76 dead. They didn’t care about extracting information and they didn’t care who he was. Meaning this little trip was all Reaper. Or maybe it was Gabriel, the same way the line between Jack Morrison and Soldier: 76 blurred sometimes when he was forcibly reminded of who he’d been.

Maybe more of Gabriel Reyes had crawled out of his grave than he liked to let on.

“Do you remember the summer of '40?” Soldier asked, then nearly fell over as Reaper abruptly stopped.

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?” His tone was a warning--a warning that Soldier ignored. 

“Nothing. Just thinking about the first time Gabriel Reyes hauled--”  _ me _ “--Jack Morrison into a kiss.”

Claws grabbed him by the chin and forced his head up. Soldier’s eyes darted back and forth, looking for big brown eyes he could remember but never see again. Assuming Reaper even had eyes. Based off of Ana’s encounter, he couldn’t be sure. 

“You have mistaken me for someone else, Jackie,” Reaper hissed, so close that Soldier briefly felt their noses brush.

“Only one man called me Jackie,” Soldier challenged.

Reaper’s hand disappeared. A second later it slapped,  _ slapped, _ across Soldier’s face so hard he was knocked to the ground. The claws had raked furrows into his cheek and jaw, blood dripping from his skin as he spat into the grass. “You’re trying my patience today,  _ Morrison _ ! Just shut up! Shut up!” Reaper spit like an angry cat.

Soldier reached up to touch the scratches on his cheek, but they were already knitting shut, not quite deep enough to leave scars on his face. Good, he already had enough. He pushed himself to his feet and felt around for his stick while Reaper seethed. 

Somewhere in there was Gabriel, he was positive. Soldier had to believe that, because if it wasn’t true, then someday he’d be putting a bullet through Reaper’s head. If Gabriel Reyes hadn’t made it out of the grave after all, it would mean Soldier had well and truly killed his best friend. 

The blood grew tacky and itchy on his skin as they kept walking, Reaper’s arm tense through his. All at once he stopped in his tracks.

“Wait here.”

“What?” Soldier tried to reach out and grab Reaper, but he must have wraithed because there was no one there. Soldier was alone. He clutched his probing stick, holding his breath to try and hear something, anything. Wind through the trees... Soldier closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Cars. People. Far in the distance. Reaper must have had stopped outside one of the towns, and though Soldier’s internal compass was all kinds of fucked up from being unable to see the sky, he thought it might be somewhere around Landivisiau based on how long they’d walked. 

Soldier sighed and sat down. He could probably use the stick to get into town and alert someone to get help if Reaper wasn’t already taking him where he needed to go--assuming he wasn’t shot on the way. Soldier felt like he’d been waiting for hours, fingers running over the bark on his stick, slowly picking it away and rubbing it smooth just for something to do with his hands.

Without warning, a bundle was dropped into his lap. “Take off your stupid jacket and get dressed. I don’t want to draw attention to us in town, Mr. Wanted Vigilante.” 

Soldier set his stick down and felt through everything in his lap: sunglasses, a proper probing stick, a backpack of some kind, jeans, a baseball cap, and a shirt. Soldier shrugged out of his jacket and stuffed it into the bag, followed by his harness and biotic canisters. He wondered if Reaper was staring as he pulled off his compression turtleneck and stuffed it into the bag--if his eyes traced every old scar and then every new one.

He pulled on the t-shirt and Reaper scoffed. “It’s on backwards.”

“How the hell am I supposed to know that? There’s no tag on it!” Soldier fumed, ripping it off and turning it around before he stuffed his arms back through the sleeves. He had to unlace his boots and kick them off to get his pants off, and by now the backpack was bulging with his gear. Reaper should have stolen a bigger one, though Soldier supposed he shouldn’t complain if Reaper was letting him keep his stuff at all.

Finally he felt around the jeans to make sure they were facing the right way and pulled them on, resolutely trying not to think about the fact that he wasn’t wearing underwear and Reaper was undoubtedly watching the whole time. Soldier crouched down to zip up the bag and threw it over one shoulder, hand sliding over the grass until he found the sunglasses, hat, and probing cane.

“You know this is all pointless if you’re running around covered in spikes and a skull mask,” Soldier quipped, extending the probing cane and running it on the ground until he hit Reaper’s foot and could take a step closer to him.

“Then you’ll be glad to know I’m not.”

What the hell was Reaper wearing then? Soldier hesitantly reached out, giving Reaper time to slap his hand away, and splayed his fingers over a strong chest. He was wearing what felt like a hoodie; Soldier’s thumb rubbing up and down the zipper. Gabriel had always favored tight clothing and the hoodie was no exception. Carefully, aware that he might get punched or shoved at any second, Soldier’s fingers brushed down Gabriel’s sides to his hips, feeling a pair of sweats. Sweats and a hoodie: Gabriel’s go-to whenever they had a rare day off.

Soldier reached up to find out if he was wearing something on his face again when his wrist was grabbed and wrenched away. Gabriel was wearing thin gloves, no longer in his clawed gauntlets. He wondered where all his gear was. 

“If you’re done feeling me up, let’s go.”

“Lead the way,” Soldier rumbled, pulling his hand back to rub his wrist. 

The probing cane was nicer than the stick, but he still had to pinch Reaper’s sleeve to keep track of him, too damn quiet to follow with hearing alone. As they walked into town, Soldier could only hear cars and people talking. 

Were people staring? Did they look weird? Soldier had spent the last several years living in his visor; it was surprisingly stressful to walk through a town without it, to think about people recognizing him. Or, God forbid, see emotions on his face. The visor had hidden a lot more than his scars and milky eyes.

“Gabe, where the hell are we going?” Soldier asked as they waited on a street corner, the buzz of hover cars passing along with a gust of wind.

“Don’t worry about it,” Reaper said. “You don’t have to worry about anything anymore. Just come to terms with death. Enjoy the time you have left.”

“That doesn’t sound like me at all,” Soldier muttered under his breath.

Reaper made a wheezing, coughing sound and it took Soldier a second to realize he was laughing a sort of startled laugh. A soon as it had happened, it was over and Reaper was clearing his throat and falling into a tense silence. Soldier followed Gabriel across the road, cane sliding back and forth over the cobblestones. One of the small towns, for sure, one that hadn’t bothered to put down asphalt. Why bother when the hover cars didn’t tear it up anyway?   
  
Gabriel finally stopped and walked through a door, letting Soldier slip in behind him as a bell rang to announce their presence. He sniffed and strained to hear something that would give away where they were. He heard the shuffle of someone, probably in a back office, getting up and walking out. He let his cane slide around to feel for boundaries and reached out to feel Gabriel, who was now standing in front of what might be a counter.   
  
“ _ Avez-vous une réservation _ ?”

“ _ Non, on a juste besoin d'une chambre _ .”

Soldier had always been shit with languages; he knew just enough to get around in several different countries, but not enough to hold a conversation. Not to mention his accent was atrociously American no matter what. Gabriel had always been a master of languages. In the army he was already been fluent in three: English, Spanish, and Tagalog. In Overwatch he’d started collecting them like cards, his accent always flawless. Since their separation, Soldier could only imagine what else Gabe had picked up along the way.

“ _ Nous avons une chambre, avec un lit double 'queen-size'. _ ”

“ _ Il nous faut deux lits _ .” Gabriel sounded annoyed. Soldier didn’t speak enough French to quite know why.

“ _ Désolé Monsieur, mais c'est tout ce qu'il nous reste hors réservation _ .  _ Vous auriez dû appeler avant _ .”

Gabriel swore, and Soldier at least understood those words before he switched back to French. “ _ D'accord, d'accord. Donnez-moi ces putain de clefs. _ ”

Soldier heard the sound of papers being shuffled and then the scratching of a pen as Gabriel wrote something. Then he was being grabbed and yanked back out the door. “Hey!” Soldier shook him off before he could be knocked over. “What’s your fucking problem?”

“...nothing.” Gabriel took a deep breath. This time when he took Soldier’s arm he moved in long strides Soldier could keep up with. They went up a set of stairs and walked down a concrete hallway. Soldier let Gabriel lead the way as his fingers ran along some sort of wrought iron fence that went up to his hip. Their room was in the far corner and Soldier listened to the way the lock beeped as Gabriel slid a keycard through a slot. 

The sounds were just enough to build a rudimentary map of the space around him, but it was far from perfect. He let Gabriel tug him into the hotel room and heard the door shut behind them. Soldier set his probing cane to the side and started to feel around with his bare hands. It smelled fresh in here. Wherever they were, it wasn’t a shithole. There was a desk, an old fashioned flat-screen TV (so it was a nice place, but outdated), and a couple doilies laying around.    
  
The picture he formed was a cozy room with old technology, tacky old-lady-esque decorations, one bed, and a small bathroom. It was clean, comfortable, and completely incongruous for the both of them. Soldier found his way to the bed and sat down, not quite sure where in the room Gabriel was if he was still around. It was very possible he’d wraithed away.   
  
Soldier decided to say something regardless. “So, now what? Why are we here?”

“I have to sleep too, and I need to make contact,” Gabriel snapped from somewhere near the door.

“Too good to sleep on the ground, huh?” 

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll make you sleep outside.”

This was ridiculous. How exactly had he found himself sharing a room with the reaper? He would have loved to see Gabriel standing in a room full of doilies. It was probably a lot of pinks and oranges and other floral colors. He grinned at the mental image.

“What are you smirking about?”

“Nothing, I didn’t realize you needed to sleep. Thought you were some kind of ghost-man.” Soldier flopped back over the mattress, feeling his ball cap fall off and his glass shift askew on his face. He took them both off and felt around until he found a bedside table he could put them on.

“I don’t need to sleep as often,” Gabriel admitted reluctantly, “but I do need to sleep eventually. If you even think about trying something you should know I’m still a light sleeper.”

Soldier could distinctly remember times where he’d gotten out of bed as quietly as possible to piss only to come back and see Gabriel’s brown eyes watching him like a hawk. Gabe had never done “groggy” like Jack had. He was either asleep or he was awake; there was no inbetween. While Jack had stumbled around at buttfuck o’ clock with a cup of coffee black enough to melt a spoon, Gabriel sipped tea and went over mission briefings.

“Where the hell would I go?” Soldier said after a moment, gesturing to his eyes.

“Don’t play the helpless blind man card with me.” 

“Is it so hard for you to believe that I might actually be helpless?” Soldier snapped. “Yes, I’m stronger and faster than a normal man but I’m not a young man anymore, Gabe!”

There was a disconcerting amount of silence after that. Enough that Soldier thought Gabriel had left in a huff. He stood up and slowly felt around, hissing in surprise when he bumped into a warm chest, hands quickly coming up to Gabriel’s broad shoulders before he could fall over. One strong hand slid to his hip like it was an automatic response, curling around and holding him close. Soldier’s breath hitched as he was pressed tight against Gabriel’s body in a way he hadn’t been in years. It lasted only a second and then he was shoved away violently, his knees hitting the corner of the mattress. He crashed to the floor with a grunt.

“Watch where you’re going!” Gabriel sounded... flustered? It was a little hard to tell with all the snarling.

Soldier laughed incredulously from his place on the floor, “Oh yeah, I’ll  _ watch _ where I’m going next time.” This whole situation was so...stupid. Once he started laughing he couldn’t stop, tears leaking from his eyes as he howled and rolled on the floor, arms crossed over his stomach as it ached from the force of his laughter. It had been building up inside him since his visor broke and now it was screaming out of him here in this old-lady hotel room in the countryside of France.

“I’m leaving,” Gabriel fumed in the distance. “ _ Stay  _ in the room, you fucking idiot.”

Jack laughed until he was sobbing, muscles in his stomach contracting painfully as he brought his hands up to cover his eyes. Gabriel had been  _ right there _ \--he’d felt him under his hands, remembered the exact curl of his fingers around his hip. It was like some kind of nightmare, being this close for so long. When they’d darted in and out trying to kill each other, it was so much easier to separate Gabriel from the reaper, but like this? Like this, Jack could only think of him as Gabriel, and if he sat in silence and thought about it too hard it was like twisting a knife in his heart.

So many things went unsaid before Zurich fell, so many things said that never should have been. So many regrets. Jack finally calmed down enough to sit up, wiping his eyes and cheeks free of tears. He needed to clean up. He’d never hear the end of it if Gabriel knew he’d been crying. Jack dragged himself off the floor and stumbled into the bathroom, turning on the cold water and splashing his face. While he had the chance, he decided to shower.

He wasn’t entirely sure where Gabriel had gone or what he was doing, probably “making contact” or whatever that meant. Most likely with a Talon accomplice to let them know he was on his way with some cargo. Jack ran his fingers along the shower knobs until he understood which one would freeze him and which one would burn him. For him, the spray was right just below scalding.

_ “Fuck, does it have to be so fucking hot?” _

_ “Not all of us want to shower in lukewarm water, Gabe.” _

_ “Lukewarm? Fuck you! This is boiling water, you piece of shit.” _

Soldier shut his eyes tightly, as if it made any damn difference, and tried to push the memories aside. When he remembered, it was harder to separate himself from Jack. Jack was dead, Soldier survived. Jack was too sentimental. It was Jack who would have sobbed over the floor like that a few minutes ago, but Soldier was made of tougher stuff. Earlier was just a momentary weakness. He took a deep breath and stripped, carefully folding his clothes and setting them on the lid of the toilet before he stepped into the shower.

One steaming hot shower later and Soldier lay out over the bed in only his jeans, TV on for something to listen to. He’d flipped through the channels and managed to find something in English, but it was a shopping network. He wasn’t sure how bad he wanted TV on anymore. 

“Did you know, Martha, that this iron is compatible with all SunRise appliances?” said one overly cheerful woman.

“Why no, I didn’t know that,” replied another woman, presumably Martha.

“Martha, you dumb bitch, how could you not know?” Soldier muttered.

“Talking to yourself?”

“Fuck!” Soldier fumbled the remote he was holding, heart nearly beating clean out of his chest. “Could you make a little fucking noise when you come in and out of the room!?” Gabriel chuckled darkly and Soldier felt the bed dip. The movement suggested Gabriel was crawling closer.

“I brought food. It’s on the table,” Gabriel said, grabbing the remote out of Soldier’s hand and changing the channel.

Soldier hadn’t even heard the door open. He slid off the mattress as Gabriel flipped through the channels and felt his way over to a table in the corner of the room where a plastic container of pastries had been set. He had to pick them up and sniff them to find out their filling. There were sweet and savory, and Jack grabbed the ones filled with what appeared to be meat, cheese, and potatoes. Were these piroshkis?

They were delicious, whatever they were, and Soldier hadn’t eaten beyond his little energy bar. He eagerly scarfed down four of them before slowing down. Gabriel had settled on something that, based on the music and cadence of the actors, was some kind of French soap opera. He’d always liked cheesy drama; Soldier could still distinctly remember sharing their sagging couch in their living room at SEP as Gabriel tried to explain one of his extremely confusing Spanish novellas. 

The more time he spent with Gabriel, the less real Reaper became and the more Reaper was like a costume he put on, a part he played. Under it all was Gabriel. The Gabriel who liked stupid soap operas and spoke forty goddamn languages. It made his heart ache in a way it hadn’t since he’d seen Ana alive and well for the first time. He picked at one of the sweet pastries, lost in thought. Jack wanted Gabriel back... but Soldier wasn’t sure if that was possible. After all, just because he was Gabriel didn’t erase the fact that he had betrayed everyone, gone to Talon, and murdered their fellows. This wasn’t thinking about forgiving someone for some insult: this was the reaper who had done horrible things in Talon’s name.

He sighed, appetite lost, and wandered back to the bed, feeling his way around the mattress to climb up onto the other side and sit against the headboard. The bed was decent in size, but they were both big guys, and their shoulders brushed as they sat next to each other in awkward silence. 

“Stay on your side of the bed tonight,” Gabriel said after a moment.

“What are we, twelve?” he asked, turning towards Gabriel’s general direction.

“All I’m saying is you always end up wrapped around whoever you’re sharing a bed with.”

Soldier flushed. “Jack did that.”

“You’re Jack.”

“No more than you’re Gabriel, apparently.”

The chilly, awkward silence returned. Soldier sighed and started to strip off his jeans, hearing Gabriel shift beside him a little as he moved a little on the mattress. Gabriel didn’t need to strip, bastard went around wearing things that could be pj’s at a moment’s notice. Soldier didn’t care if it was awkward, he wasn’t sleeping in a pair of fucking jeans. He climbed under the sheets, lying on his side with his back to Gabriel. 

He was asleep before he felt Gabriel go to bed, the soap opera still playing quietly in the background.

_ “God, Morrison, you’re like a fucking leech. Give me a little space.” _

_ “It’s a tactical mission; we’re supposed to stay close.” _

_ Gabriel laughed softly and tangled his fingers with Jack’s over his chest. They were laying in a blown out building on a filthy old mattress, their only warmth coming from Jack’s heavy blue duster. Hardly comfortable, but Jack didn’t care as long as he had Gabriel in his arms. He loved being the big spoon, feeling Gabriel’s ass tucked up against his hips and his chest up against his strong back. Gabriel complained about being the little spoon but never did anything about it. _

_ Jack pressed soft, lingering kisses along the back of Gabriel’s neck. He could taste the sweat of the day, along with the dust and muck from running around a destroyed city. Jack took a deep breath against him, savoring that smell, if only because it was Gabriel underneath it all. Since he’d been made strike commander, there weren’t a lot of opportunities to go out in the field with Gabe anymore, so he savored each and every time he got to say  _ suck it  _ to the higher ups and join Gabriel on a mission. _

_ “How am I supposed to sleep when you’re doing that?” Gabriel breathed, tilting his head back with a low groan. _

_ “Someone’s worked up,” Jack teased quietly, sliding one hand down Gabriel’s chest to knead between his legs.  _

_ “Can you blame me,” he grumbled, shifting to grind his round ass back against Jack’s cock, “when you’re wiggling around like that?” _

_ They weren’t really in the position to fool around. They were both still in their armor and getting undressed would take too long. Which was fine--they’d long since adapted to the needs of war. All Jack had to do was unzip his pants as Gabriel pushed his own pants down just far enough to let Jack press against his hole. Jack spat into his hand a couple times, getting his cock as slick as he could, and slipped a single finger into Gabriel’s hole to get him wet before slowly guiding himself inside. _

_ “Always so tight,” Jack whispered, clinging to Gabriel tightly as he started to shallowly rock his hips. Their bodies could take the strain of a spit-slicked fuck on an old mattress. Gabriel had always kind of liked the burn, so Jack wasn’t concerned about hurting him in a way that mattered. _

_ They rocked together, gasping and groaning under their breath. Jack stroked Gabriel’s cock slowly, his pants down just far enough to free it. He kissed and nuzzled against the back of his neck as his thumb lazily circled the bulbous head, spreading the precum as it bubbled up through the slit. It wasn’t comfortable, it rarely was on missions like this, but it felt good. Even with their armor on, even when they were sore and dusty from a hard day of running and fighting. Even with the springs of this old mattress poking and prodding them. _

_ Jack came with a sigh, holding himself in deep so all his cum filled Gabriel up and didn’t immediately leak out. He stroked Gabriel’s cock faster, letting his cock go soft inside him until he finally came with a low grunt. _

_ “Always making a mess of me, Jackie,” Gabriel grumbled as Jack pulled out. _

_ “You love it,” Jack grinned, kissing his shoulder and helping him get his clothes straightened out. There was something so hot about Gabriel having cum in his pants until they could get back to base. _

_ Gabriel grunted. “I love  _ you  _ and that’s why I put up with it.”  _

_ Jack laughed quietly, hugging him tightly and kissing the back of his neck. “Love you, too.” _

Jack jerked awake, sucked in a small breath, and buried his face against the broad back before him. His arms were wrapped tightly around Gabriel’s body, breathing in his scent as he came down from the dream. He was half-hard, grinding lazily against Gabe’s sweats and wondering why he wasn’t also naked.

Gabriel shifted with a grunt, and Jack opened his eyes and... saw nothing. He blinked, throat closing up as he blinked harder, why couldn’t he--

Oh.

Jack was dead. Soldier was blind. Gabriel wasn’t the same man from his dream. Soldier carefully pulled away, hoping Gabriel was asleep as he rolled out of bed and felt his way to the bathroom. He had no way to know what time it was. Middle of the night? Middle of the day? Who the fuck knew. He shut the bathroom door and leaned against it with a sigh, hand sliding down to grip his cock. 

He really shouldn’t. He hadn’t touched himself in ages, too busy running around the world fighting. Soldier had thought himself too old to feel such intense arousal thrumming through him, especially after everything he’d been through.

Yet here it was, and despite his better judgement, he started to stroke his cock, head falling back against the door with a quiet thump. Without being able to see anything all he could picture was Gabriel, remember how tight and hot he’d been as his body closed so sweetly around his cock. Soldier bit down on his knuckle as he started to stroke faster, muffling soft sounds of pleasure as precum slicked his shaft.

Gabriel had always been so fucking tough, snarling and snapping and lording his power over others, but sometimes--and only with Jack--he’d melt. He’d bend over and let Jack fuck him until they both couldn’t come anymore. He’d kiss back so sweetly, not a hint of teeth. Only for Jack, though, he’d always say. Only for Jack.

Soldier nearly sobbed as he came, cupping his hand around the head to try and catch every drop. Otherwise, he’d leave behind a mess he could never fully clean up. After catching his breath he tried to settle back into his skin--he was Soldier: 76, a job, a number. Jack Morrison had once had the world at his fingertips; when he’d let it all burn, that man had burned up along with it. Soldier: 76 had merely risen from the ashes, stronger and able to do what needed to be done.

He washed the cum off his hand, pissed, and climbed into the shower to wash the slightly tacky cold sweat off his body. If only Soldier could figure out what needed to be done here. He came out of the bathroom, feeling around for where he’d folded up his jeans.

“You’re not half as quiet as you think you are, Jackie.”

Soldier flushed but refused to rise to the bait, finding his jeans and sliding them on. Deeply aware that Gabriel was awake and watching him as he tucked his cock down before zipping himself up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said stiffly.

“You still talk in your sleep.”

Gabriel didn’t sound angry or annoyed, and that was what gave Soldier pause as he pulled on his shirt. He sounded... contemplative? Soldier cleared his throat and gathered up the rest of his clothing, finishing with the baseball cap and sunglasses. They weren’t as good as his mask and visor, but they offered some small amount of privacy. 

“I can’t control my dreams,” he said, once the closest thing he had to armor was on, “so  _ sorry _ if they  _ disturbed _ you.”

“You like to pretend you’re someone else, but you’re just as much Jack Morrison as the day I met you,” said Gabriel lowly. “Same stupid farmboy eager for praise and touch.”   
  
Soldier felt those words like a punch to the gut, a sort of casual cruelty that he should expect from Reaper but never seemed to expect from Gabriel. The hurt was... very old, though. It was like a stone he’d polished smooth, the years a river tumbling all the hard edges off it. Losing Gabriel was one of the greatest regrets of his entire life, and to hear Gabriel--Reaper--throw their relationship back in his face like it was meaningless to him felt weirdly distant. Soldier didn’t know what to say, or why Gabriel was saying it, but the moment felt as delicate as spun sugar. If he so much as breathed wrong, it would shatter around him and reality would come crashing in.

The bed squeaked and Jack felt the air move as Gabriel brushed past him to the bathroom, door shutting with a snap. All for his benefit, of course, Gabriel could have wraithed without a sound. He rubbed his forehead and sat down on the edge of the mattress. Soldier took a deep breath, centering himself once more.

While Gabriel did... whatever he was doing in the bathroom, Soldier finished off the stale pastries, licking sugar off his fingers once he was sure he’d gotten all of them. Gabriel came back out as Soldier was grabbing his probing cane, backpack over his shoulder and ready to go.

“Come on,” Gabriel ordered, hooking his arm around Soldier’s and leading him back outside. Soldier tugged against Gabriel’s grip but he was yanked forward harshly, stumbling a little and almost dropping his cane. Whatever was going on, he didn’t like it.

They walked down the stairs, Soldier taking his time on the way down, and moved down the road. Being blind in town was awful--all the noises meant he had to cling tightly to Gabriel, cane running over the sidewalk as they walked quickly to...wherever.

The sun left his skin as they entered a building. The sound of his footsteps echoed little, so wherever they were was big and open... an empty warehouse, perhaps? Then he heard breathing, lots of it. He kept his head down, cap hiding his face as Gabriel lead him further inside. The shuffling of people was almost deafening to him. Hyper aware, Jack tensed when he realized this was probably a Talon warehouse. But why was Gabriel here? Talon wouldn’t approve of him keeping Jack alive.

“I need a vehicle,” Gabriel growled as they came to a stop. “That one.”

“Sir Reaper,” said the Talon grunt, “I’d be happy to let you take it, of course... but who’s this with you? He’s not Talon, is he?”

“I don’t think it’s any of your fucking business.

There was silence. Soldier could almost  _ hear _ the man weighing his fear of the reaper versus his fear of what would happen if he didn’t follow protocol. “I need to verify him.”

Gabriel hissed, “And what will you do if I don’t?”

The man swallowed so loudly that Soldier could hear it, could almost smell the sour stink of fear wafting off him. Yet to his credit, he didn’t fold. “The... all the cars are remotely s-started and I n-need to v-verify all passengers...”

Gabriel let out a long suffering sigh. “ _ Fine _ . This,” he yanked Soldier forward, “is Soldier: 76, formerly known as Strike-Commander Jack Morrison.”

“What the  _ FUCK _ !” Soldier roared, ripping away from Gabriel’s grip. He knew he was being sent to the slaughter one way or the other, but some part of him had, perhaps naively, assumed that Gabriel would keep his secrets. Talon wanted him dead  _ now _ , and Soldier felt his back itch as he felt a thousand weapons he couldn’t see all point his way. Fuck this, he was going to run for it.

Everything happened quickly after that. Soldier spun and lashed out as he felt the air move behind him, his fist clipping someone. Hands grabbed his arm and he elbowed them right in the chest, taking satisfaction in the  _ crack! _ of their sternum breaking. Soldier yanked out of their grip and made a run for it, cane sliding over the floor.

He ran into a solid chest and knew instinctively that it was Gabriel,  _ Reaper _ , knew it even as he collided with the floor. Reaper dropped down onto his hips and blows rained down on Soldier like he’d summoned a storm.

“YOU. DO NOT. RUN. FROM. ME!”

Soldier tried to twist out from under him, protect his face, but the men were laughing and grabbing his arms, spreading him out over the concrete as blows landed on his face and down his body. He screamed, too strong for them to hold but not strong enough to fight both them and Reaper at the same time. Blood was filling his mouth and he furiously spit it out where he thought Reaper might be, hate coursing through him like venom.

Someone kicked him hard enough in the ribs that he felt them break, and that  _ wasn’t _ Reaper. He heard Reaper snarl and someone gagged before a body fell to the floor with a  _ thump! _ beside them. It got very quiet very fast.

“Did I say you could hurt him?” Reaper whispered darkly.

The sounds Soldier made as he tried to breath around all the blood filling his mouth and nose punctured the tense silence. He snorted out a blood clot and spat, a fresh flow trickling thickly down his cheeks and temples. He probably looked a mess, and God knows where his hat and sunglasses had gone. Why go through the trouble of shacking up in a motel if Reaper was just going to drag him to this nearby base and expose him?

Something wasn’t right here...

Reaper’s weight left him all at once and Soldier gasped and rolled over, coughing and spitting up blood to try and clear his mouth of it while his cuts and breaks started to knit up, his bruises fading. There was enough damage done that it was going to take awhile. He blinked heavily, tears of pain dripping down his cheeks, just adding to the mess.

“Seems there hasn’t been enough discipline in these ranks.”   
  
Reaper’s voice was like a thunderstorm rolling in; it made the hair on the back of Soldier’s neck stand on end. All at once the lightning struck, Hellfire shotguns ringing out in the warehouse. Men screamed until they were suddenly struck silent. When it was over, all Soldier could hear was the rustling of Reaper’s clothes and the sound of dripping... dripping...dripping.

He spat again as he was lifted to his feet, pain lancing through him and forcing him to lean heavily on Reaper as he was dragged to a car and tossed over the back seat.   
  
“Wh-what the hell,” Soldier grit out as he heard Reaper get into the driver’s seat. Had he just slaughtered an entire Talon warehouse? Why? How the hell did that help him?

“I needed the car.” Reaper sounded annoyed that Soldier even _ asked _ . There was a beeping and the tapping of fingers on a screen. Reaper snarled  _ Sombra _ to seemingly nothing and no one in particular. Then all at once the car’s hover technology engaged smoothly and they were lifted gently off the ground.

Soldier sucked in a breath through his teeth as the car moved, jostling his broken bones. “They would have... _ fuck _ . They would have given it to you. You could have said I was anyone!”

“They would have scanned you no matter what I said. There was no way to hide who you are,” Reaper snapped, “and I need this car. I’m not walking all the way to fucking Annecy. It’ll take a month with the way you move.”

“Great,” Soldier grit out, arm over his chest as his broken ribs felt like they were grinding together inside him. He hoped to God he didn’t move the wrong way and puncture a lung. Did it before, not fun. “Now all of Talon is going to be after us.”

“You’re going to die regardless. I don’t see why you even care. ”

Soldier closed his eyes, as if that could shut off the pain coursing through him. “I could say the same thing to you.” 

“I didn’t say they could hurt you,” Reaper said like that explained it. Like that just waved away the whole damn experience. “This wouldn’t have happened if you’d remained calm, you fucking jackass,” he added accusingly. “Why’d you run? You think I could just let that go in front of all those men?”

“You killed all those men!” Soldier snapped, then groaned and spat out some more blood.

“Wasn’t part of the original plan,” he heard Reaper mutter under his breath.

“What exactly  _ was _ the original plan?” Soldier asked sarcastically. God, he was in so much fucking pain. He wanted to crawl over the seats and beat the shit out of Reaper. Any nostalgic thoughts or  _ feelings _ he might’ve been having about this whole situation were now firmly squashed down. Jack Morrison was dead and he’d taken his love for Gabriel with him. All Soldier felt for Reaper was hatred.

“You shutting the fuck up and Talon giving me the car.”

Soldier snorted, and blood and snot shot out over his chin. He needed another fucking shower and sleep while his body healed. They drove in silence, Soldier breathing softly as the blood grew tacky and sticky on his skin. After what had to be over an hour, he growled at Reaper to stop in another town so he could shower. 

Reaper didn’t respond and Soldier sat up, ribs twinging but no longer feeling like they were grinding together.

“Did you fucking hear me?” He felt along the back of the seat ahead of him until he was sitting behind the driver’s side, fingers sliding over until he could feel Reaper’s shoulders. He was still wearing his hoodie, but Jack could feel where blood had dried in the fabric. Apparently they were both a bloody mess. His hand was slapped away after a second.

“Knock it off, Jack.”

“Stop somewhere.”

“Go to hell.”

“I’ll take you with me, bastard.”

Reaper laughed and Soldier’s heart ached and whispered  _ Gabriel _ . No, Gabriel was... he was gone, whatever Reaper was had merely taken Gabriel’s body to use for his own end. Killing him would be a mercy, surely. Soldier sighed and lay back out over the seat, listening to the wind rushing outside the windows, the slight hum of the hover tech. Despite the pain and the drying blood cracking on his skin, he fell asleep.

_ “I hate this.” _

_ “Maybe if you stopped mouthing off to the sergeants, this wouldn’t happen. Also, could you stop fucking dragging me into it?” _

_ “It’s good for you, gives you a chance to relax that tongue of yours.” _

_ “What the hell does that mean?” _

_ “Means you’re a filthy little brown noser kissing every ass in the building. Perfect little golden boy. Trouble is good for you, builds character.” _

_ “I’m going to kick your fucking ass, Reyes!” _

_ “I’d like to see you try, boysc--HEY!” _

_ Hey. _

“Hey!”

Soldier grunted and woke up to someone shaking him. He slapped the hand away and jerked up only to wheeze in pain. Where the hell were they? The car wasn’t running anymore--he could tell that much. The back door was open, a fresh breeze wafting over him before something was tossed into his face. It was a towel.   
  
“Cover yourself up or we’ll cause a fucking scene.”   
  
He wrapped it over his head and let it drape down his shoulders, holding it closed with one hand while his other fumbled forward until it was grabbed and he was yanked out of the back seat. He could hear cars rushing past and figured this was some roadside motel. Reaper led him along by the hand, absurdly reminding him of being led through the crowded streets of LA during a night market--Soldier squashed the memory like a bug. He stopped when Reaper did. He heard him shuffle up against a wooden door, the creak of hinges, the rattle of the doorknob, and-- _ click _ .

Ah, so not bothering to pay for the room. Soldier wandered in after Reaper, letting the towel drop as he felt around for the bathroom. He needed to wash this shit off  _ now _ ; it was starting to itch like crazy. The shower was standing only, just barely big enough to accommodate his broad shoulders. The shower head came up only to his chest. Miserable. Reaper couldn’t find someplace nicer to break into?

It would have to do. He turned on the water and carefully washed the blood, snot, and tears off his face. His clothes were a bloody mess. Hopefully Reaper had grabbed some fresh ones he could change into. Soldier felt around his nose, cheekbones, and eyes, checking to make sure everything had healed up properly. His ribs were still a little sore, but an examination proved they were at least no longer broken.

Once he’d washed away the filth, he stepped out and felt around for a towel to quickly dry off with. With no clothes except his dirty ones, he wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped out. Soldier could hear weight shifting on the bed and he felt his way closer, fingers dragging along dusty walls until he stood above a mattress.

“I don’t have any clean clothes,” he rumbled, fingers brushing over Reaper’s strong thigh before it was yanked away. He felt, more than heard, him getting off the shitty bed and took the opportunity to sit down and scoot until his back was against the creaky headboard.

“There are coin-operated washing machines down the walkway,” Reaper said.

Then there was a quiet, expectant wait, and Soldier could just picture the look on Reaper’s face. Something that said  _ what are you waiting for? _ Did Reaper really expect him to wash his own clothes? Naked in nothing but a towel, blind as a fucking bat? 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Soldier deadpanned.

“I’m not your fucking maid. You want to wear clean clothes, you wash them.”

“Fine,” he bit out. “Where’s my fucking backpack?” Soldier could at least wear his old pants until his jeans and shirt were washed. He’d been tossed in the car with it, so it was probably on the floor somewhere, but Soldier didn’t know where the car was in relation to this room.

Reaper snarled. “I have to do everything for you!” 

“Wouldn’t have to if you hadn’t gotten blood all over my fucking clothes!” Soldier called out as he heard Reaper storm out of the room.

Alone in the darkness he shifted and slid his hand over the mattress where Reaper had been laying, finding flakes of dried blood, but under that... warmth. An indent in the mattress, a ruffle in the sheets. Even the flaked-off blood reminded him of days gone, of times when they’d slept hard beside each other, one or the other so fresh off a mission they’d done little more than strip before falling into bed, too exhausted and too touch starved to spend a second apart. One of them would be forced awake too early. They would share a short, sleepy kiss goodbye. A warm indent and flakes of blood were all they’d left behind.

Jack felt his heart throb so hard it was like someone was squeezing their fist around it and he sucked in a sharp breath. Gabriel. Now that the hate had faded, that jumble of complicated feelings was back. This was all so confusing. He shut his eyes tightly, focusing on the slight ache in his ribs, the only thing that still hurt, and remembered how Reaper threw him to the floor, how his fists had flown without mercy.

Then, how the second someone else had tried to do more than hold him, Reaper had slaughtered all those men. Just for a kick. That was the natural extreme of Gabriel’s personality: if someone he loved was hurt, he’d go to the moon and back to avenge them. It had driven Jack crazy. He didn’t want or need to be avenged; he just wanted Gabriel by his side. That bull-headedness, the stubborn insistence to hurt anyone who harmed the people he cared about... it had been part of their downfall in the end.

“Here’s your bag.”

Soldier held up his arms just in time to keep it from hitting him in the face. The bag bounced off his legs and rolled off the bed. He didn’t move to immediately grab it when the bed dipped. Soldier twisted to face Gabriel, who was lying down beside him.

“What the hell happened to us?” Soldier asked.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Gabriel snapped, shifting. Their shoulders brushed. 

“Us.” He reached out and grabbed Gabriel by the shoulder to help orient him as he moved until he was on his knees and straddling Gabriel’s thighs but not sitting on them. The towel was close to coming untucked from around his waist but Soldier couldn’t bring himself to care. The dried blood was gone, Gabriel’s soft hoodie was clean.

“Knock it off, Jack!” Gabriel’s hand came to his waist and tried to shove him over but Soldier locked his knees tightly around Gabriel’s thighs. Both hands squeezed Gabriel’s shoulders. If he wanted out he was going to have to wraith.

“There was a day when you stopped trusting me,” Soldier said stubbornly, “why? All I ever did was stick my neck out for you. Saved you again and again from your own actions--”

“Fuck you!” Hot breath hit his face as Gabriel leaned in to snarl at him. Soldier could picture his exact expression from hundreds of different screaming matches. Gabriel had always loved to fight up close and personal. “You betrayed me, you sold out my fucking team! I knew you didn’t approve of Blackwatch’s methods but that was low, even for you! McCree almost  _ died _ because of you.”

It was such an unexpected statement that Soldier didn’t know how to respond at first. “Are you talking about what happened in Columbia?” 

“Where else?” Gabriel said bitterly. “Talon was waiting and ready for us. You were the lead of that mission!”

Soldier  _ did _ remember that mission, but he hadn’t been lead on it. Or, well, he was  _ supposed _ to be lead, but he’d been called away to the UN and had placed O'Deorain in charge. She was already Blackwatch so Jack had assumed she would already be briefed enough to handle a last minute assignment. He’d never liked her, but at that point he hadn’t had a reason to distrust her. Gabriel had vouched quite aggressively for her even when Jack hadn’t wanted to hire her at all.

“I wasn’t lead,” he blurted out.

“What?” Gabriel snapped. “Yes you were, you even called me into your fucking office to lecture me about you needing to lead because Blackwatch was ‘ _ out of control _ ’ or some shit.”

“I was called to the UN!” Jack growled, shaking Gabriel by the shoulders, “I placed  O'Deorain in charge! Didn’t she tell you that?”

There was a beat of silence.

“What?” Gabriel whispered.

“Is it really so surprising? She was a traitor from day one,” Jack said, hands sliding to cup Gabriel’s neck. To feel his warm skin under his palms was like a shock to his system. He still remembered Gabriel after that mission. McCree had been taken straight to the medical wing, Gabriel covered in his blood.

_ What happened? Gabe? _

Gabriel had given him a look of such raw hatred that it had stopped Jack in his tracks. They never talked about it. Jack had told himself Gabriel was stressed and scared--they both were. Eventually they fell back into bed again, but it wasn’t the same. Gabriel wasn’t the same.

Was this the linchpin of their wild spin out? It seemed too small, too simple. All this time, had Gabriel been under the impression that Jack had betrayed him? It was so stupid--just a couple of short conversations and this could have been cleared up. 

“You... she... never spoke, we only received text messages, but I was so frustrated with you by that point I didn’t ask.”

“And then you didn’t trust me,” Jack said, daring to let his thumbs run along Gabriel’s jaw. Maybe Gabe would finally let him see--

Jack grunted as he was shoved away, flopping back onto the mattress. A gloved hand closed around his neck and pinned him there. “Stop! Stop talking!” Soldier scrambled against the hand around his throat as it slowly but surely cut off his air. “You did this to me! You knew and you left me to die!”

“N-ngck!” Soldier tried to shake his head. He hadn’t known. There was  _ so much _ he hadn’t known. All he knew at the time was that they’d stopped trusting each other. The hand lightened up and he gasped for breath, coughing and gagging a little. “No!” he said, voice gone hoarse. “You pulled away from me first! You spent so much time in O’Deorain’s lab I barely saw you!”

“If I thought I could trust you, I would have!” Gabriel's hand was still at Soldier’s throat but he wasn’t actively choking him anymore. The towel had come undone, exposing Soldier under Gabriel’s weight, a muscular thigh pressed right up between his legs. “Talon had infiltrated all levels!”

“O’Deorain was Talon!  _ YOU _ betrayed us for Talon! I don’t think you get to spit out about me being compromised, you hypocrite!”

“I joined Talon because--”

Soldier stopped breathing. This was all he wanted to know:  _ why _ . Why had Gabe betrayed them? Betrayed  _ him _ ?

All at once Gabriel’s weight disappeared and Soldier sat up on his elbows. “Gabe? Gabriel?”

Silence. Soldier scoffed. It was just like Gabriel to flee in the middle of an important conversation. Of course now it meant that Soldier was left with the troubling thought that he’d let so much more pass by under his nose than he’d originally believed. How had he missed that O’Deorain had failed to inform Gabriel of the switch? More than that, she’d put them in deliberate danger and almost killed McCree. 

There, at the end of all things, as his life had fallen apart, Jack Morrison had let more and more slip through his fingers. Gabriel had every right to be furious with him, but for as much as he’d screwed up, he’d always tried to do right by his people. Good intentions were never enough, he supposed. Soldier grabbed his pants out of his backpack and pulled them on before gathering up his crunchy clothes from the bathroom floor and leaving the room to follow the thump of the laundry machines.

There was no one else there, thankfully, but no doubt someone would be in to collect the loads that were running. Soldier felt around until he found a washing machine, dumped his clothes, and slipped some Euros into the coin slot. 

His fingers brushed along the machine until he felt where he could buy a single sample of washing liquid and then tossed it in. Thankfully there usually weren’t a ton of settings in places like this, so Soldier pressed the first button he found and listened to the washing machine fill and get to work. He felt his way to a set of chairs against the wall and sat down with an exhausted sigh. He’d lost his cap, sunglasses, and probing cane in the fight. He was lucky to have his backpack and the data pad in his jacket. All he could do was hope that no one recognized him; admittedly, it was unlikely in a backwater motel in France.

He thought about Ana waiting for him in Annecy. She wouldn’t even be worried yet, probably; he was well within the time frame so far. He could picture her sipping tea and reading some French novel during the day, then keeping a stakeout on the mansion on the lake at night, using her scope to watch the smallest details from afar. Soldier leaned back, head falling against the window behind him.

He missed her. Ana would know exactly what to do and what to say to clear all this up. She had always been the voice of reason when his and Gabe’s personalities had clashed explosively. She would do so matter-of-factly, but not unkindly, and if they both started to get into a screaming match, she’d make herself a cup of tea and wait them out before getting back to mediating again.

“Oh, Ana,” he whispered, “how do I do this?”

Jack had always been so good with people. He’d loved people, once upon a time. Somehow being charming and well put together was harder with people he knew intimately. At some point it had gotten more and more difficult to separate Jack Morrison the politician and Jack Morrison the man. By the end, the politics of his position had taken over every aspect of his life . He had been constantly on edge trying to keep the UN from shutting them down, all while Blackwatch spun out of control under him and dealing with the public's growing anti-Overwatch movement.

On top of all that was the growing distance from Gabriel, just when he needed him most. How different would things have been if either of them had been less stubborn? Or if Ana had still been there to slap sense into them? Jack had always maintained that Ana would have made the best Strike-Commander between the three of them, but she’d never wanted the position. Losing her had devastated them both; Jack had always gotten the feeling that Gabriel blamed him a little for it. After all, he’d been lead on that mission. When his people died, it was his fault.

Jack had always blamed himself a little, too.

He heard people speaking French as they approached the laundry room. He ducked his head down and closed his eyes to make it look like he was dozing. He regretted not putting on his black compression shirt, at least that would have hidden the massive scars that criss-crossed over his body. Jack assumed they were staring when their conversation stuttered a little, but it didn’t stop and soon they were chattering away like he wasn’t there, opening their dryer and gathering up their clothes with a rustling sound.

He lifted his head again when their voices faded off into the distance. Alone once more, Jack got up as his washer buzzed, pulling out his clothes without knowing if the blood had washed out or stubbornly stained, and felt his way to an open dryer.

Where the hell had Gabriel gone? Maybe he was back in the motel room now that Jack had left, or perhaps he’d wandered off to go have a tantrum by the side of the road. Perhaps he’d gotten in the car and just... drove away. Jack tried not to think too hard about that. He turned on the dryer after popping in a coin and sat back down, crossing his ankle over his knee as he waited patiently for his clothes to be done.

Jack supposed, at the end of the day, no amount of talking about the past would change it. He couldn’t make Gabriel accept anything he said as truth, nor could he make him care. All he could do was keep pushing his buttons and see what fell out. Jack dozed a little until he heard the buzzer and finally grabbed up his clothes, holding them under one arm as his other hand slid along the peeling paint and over dusty windows to try and find their room. Was it three windows? Four? Jack had been paying more attention to the sound than the feel on the way here. He tried one door but found it locked. Two people argued in French in the room next door. He tested the room after and the broken lock clicked and let him in.

“Gabriel?”

Nothing.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t there, just that he didn’t want Jack to know about it. Jack sighed and shut the door with his foot, feeling his way back to the bed to kick off his pants and pull on the jeans and t-shirt. 

“If you’re here you should say something,” Jack groused, stuffing his pants back into his backpack. Silence.“Otherwise I’m going to sleep and we’ll waste more time here.”

Jack pulled back the sheets and crawled under them, petulantly taking up the entire bed by spreading out his limbs and getting comfortable. Let Gabriel be a bastard; Jack wasn’t going to sit up and worry about him. Not anymore. Like a good soldier, he fell asleep in seconds.

_ “Hot out here.” _

_ “How astute.” _

_ “Shut the hell up, asshole.” _

_ Gabriel threw back his head and laughed, punching Jack in the arm hard enough to bruise someone whose body didn’t heal bruises in seconds. They sat with their backs against a blown-out wall, waiting for the signal to move. The cicadas were screaming, something Jack had never heard before but wasn’t sure he liked. Gabriel was a West Coast boy through and through; when they’d first arrived in South Carolina he’d thought they were fucked up crickets. _

_ SEP had them running all over the United States to fight back the Omnic threat. Jack had seen more of this country than he ever thought he would as a boy growing up in Indiana. It was always the worst parts of it, though: destroyed monuments, scattered corpses, hopes and dreams tattered in the wind. Not how he’d have wanted to travel. At least Gabriel was always by his side, his brother in arms.  _

_ Jack wasn’t sure he would have survived the injections much less the battles if Gabriel hadn’t been with him through the entire journey.  _

_ “Thinking awfully loud over there, farmboy,” said Gabriel quietly. _

_ “Jealous?” He was already bright red with the heat and humidity so thankfully he couldn’t blush any harder. It had only been a year since they’d met, but he’d never loved anyone quite like he loved Gabriel. It was embarrassing when he was positive that Gabriel didn’t love him the same way.  _

_ He dared to shoot him a glance and had to look away. There was something in Gabriel’s eyes he couldn’t look directly at, like he was sitting beside the sun itself. A hand curled into the collar of his fatigues, armored gloves scratching against the back of his neck as Gabriel slowly forced Jack to face him. _

_ “What--” Jack licked his suddenly dry lips, despite the fact that he was dripping with sweat, “what the hell are you doing, Reyes?” _

_ “What you’re too much of a coward to do, sunshine.” _

_ “What--mm!” Jack gasped as he was hauled forward, their lips suddenly pressed together into a hard, closed-mouth kiss. Hardly the sexiest kiss Jack had ever had, but fireworks were going off in his head, and he sagged against Gabriel. He curled his fingers over the top of Gabriel’s body armor so when he pulled it away it couldn’t be more than an inch, their noses brushing as Jack looked him in the eye, gaze a bit unfocused. _

_ “Wanted to do that for ages,” Gabriel whispered. _

_ “Do it again,” said Jack, eyes darting to Gabriel’s lips. _

_ He grinned widely, white teeth glinting. “You do it.”  _

_ Jack was all too happy to lean in and part his lips to let in Gabriel’s tongue, hand shifting to the back of his neck. He pressed in harder, their assault rifles clacking together as he wordlessly begged Gabriel to devour him, something Gabe seemed all too happy to do. _

Jack woke up to the feeling of the bed dipping but kept his face and body relaxed, breathing shallow like he was still asleep. He felt Gabriel crawl closer until his hands were right beside his arm. Based on the dip in the mattress, Jack thought Gabriel might be leaning over him a little.

“I always know when you’re faking, Jackie.”

Jack huffed, “You’re the only one.” He could feel Gabriel hovering, but he couldn’t figure out why. He reached up without thinking, finding the front of his hoodie and grabbing it.

“What the hell are you doing, Morrison?” Gabriel whispered.

“What you’re too much of a coward to do, sunshine.”

Jack hauled Gabriel forward, their noses smooshing together as Jack’s lips pressed up against his upper lip. He could feel the coarse hair of Gabriel’s well-groomed beard and quickly adjusted to catch his lips completely, one hand coming to the back of his head to keep him in place. He curled his fingers in the soft knit beanie Gabriel was wearing, a tactile memory never forgotten. Gabriel didn’t respond immediately, but he didn’t pull away or wraith either.

The kiss lingered without going deeper, Gabriel frozen above him. Jack pulled away and licked his lips, heart thumping in his chest so hard he wondered if Gabriel could hear it. “There... now we can get on with our lives.”

“What?” Gabriel sounded incredulous, perhaps a little dazed.

“The tension was killing me.” Jack, shoved Gabriel back with an arm to his chest so he could sit up and scoot to the edge of the bed. “Now it isn’t. You can take me to Annecy and kill me. Obviously there’s nothing left between us. What with Jack and Gabriel being dead.”

Gabriel growled. “Excuse me?” 

Jack stretched; he could hear Gabriel shifting behind him and let himself have a private little smile. “I thought I’d give it one last try, but I didn’t feel anything. Gabe would never have just sat there for a kiss, so I know he’s dead and Reaper is a terrible kisser.”

“Fuck you, Morrison!”

Jack grunted as he was grabbed by the hair, his head wrenched back as lips crushed over his. He groaned and parted his lips for a hot tongue, relaxing back until his shoulders hit Gabriel’s chest. It was an awkward, messy position, their teeth clicking and Jack’s neck straining as he tried to take the kiss even deeper. There was his Gabriel. Just took a little coaxing to get him out.

He twisted around when Gabriel pulled back for a breath so they were facing each other, and Jack came at him for another kiss, letting the hand in his hair guide him. Messy, a little painful, and perfect. Jack bit down on Gabriel’s bottom lip before pulling away, both of them breathing harder. 

“Maybe Gabe’s not so dead after all,” Jack said huskily, reaching up to gently cup Gabriel’s face.

“And Jack?” Gabriel asked, sounding breathless.

Jack traced his thumbs along Gabriel’s full lower lip and through his beard. “I keep trying to kill him.” 

“But he’s a hard bastard to kill... I should know.”

Jack had to laugh, pulling Gabriel forward so they could rest their foreheads together. “Yeah... real hard to kill...”

They rested there a moment, Jack just breathing in Gabriel’s scent. There was something a little sickly about it, like a whiff of distant decay, but he was solid and alive under his hands. Jack slowly let his bare fingers trace along Gabriel’s jaw, waiting to be shoved away once more. He wasn’t. His fingers slid up, feeling Gabe’s strong cheekbones and hollow cheeks, feeling familiar and unfamiliar scars along the way, and then further up to trace around his eyes and up to his thick eyebrows. Gabriel’s eyelashes fluttered shut as Jack feathered touches along them and then up to his forehead. 

“You look exactly like I remember you,” said Jack quietly, letting his hands come back down to cup Gabriel’s cheeks. “What did you even want me to see?”

“Not exactly the same,” said Gabriel, his breath hot against Jack’s face. “It doesn’t matter now.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

Jack frowned; he’d felt some new scars but... what else could Gabriel possibly be hiding?

“Come on,” Gabriel grunted, pulling away so suddenly that Jack was left cold without him, “we need to get back on the road.” The illusion had shattered, but oh, how sweet it had been while it had lasted. Gabriel was still there; Reaper was a mask--a costume--that gave Jack some small hope that something could change. Hope was something he had in short supply these days, and he cradled it against his heart just to feel its warmth.

“Still going to kill me?”

Gabriel was silent. Then he grabbed Jack by the shirt and wrenched him off the bed. “The past doesn’t outweigh the present, old man. Whatever... whoever we were once doesn’t change who we are now.”

“Then kill me!” Jack challenged, grabbing Gabriel by the wrist and stumbling to his feet. “Put a bullet in my head,  _ Reaper _ !”

Gabriel snarled and shoved Jack away. “The plan hasn’t changed, Jackie. You belong to Talon now.”

“And the Reaper is Talon’s loyal dog... even if he joined for all the wrong reasons,” Jack taunted, feeling around for his backpack and picking it up to sling it over his shoulder.

“You have no idea why I joined!” Gabriel hissed like a cobra about to strike, and Jack got the distinct impression that pushing much further would lead to a full on fight... or a bullet to the head. He didn’t actually  _ want _ to die, not if he could survive. Jack Morrison had always been a survivor.

Lowering his head, he acquiesced and let the subject drop. For now.

Gabriel locked their arms and pulled Jack out to the car, letting go once Jack got a hand on the hood and slid into the passenger seat. The car soon whirred to life and lifted off the ground. Jack could hear him punching something, probably an address, into the screen set in the dash. He reached out to feel around a bit, but his hand was slapped away before he could find it.

“You’re going to fuck up the map if you touch it.”

Jack waited all of a minute before his hand darted out to slap over the screen, causing Gabriel to screech and yank back his wrist. “You son of a bitch!” Was that… laughter in his voice?

“You deserve it.” Jack pulled his wrist out of Gabriel’s grasp. “For all those times you messed with my desk.”

“Not my fault they gave you a touchscreen desk and your ass always set it off.”

“It  _ is _ your fault that you were always fucking me on it; too goddamn impatient to wait five seconds to go somewhere else.”

“Time is money, Jackie.”

“And you think I’m cheap, is that it?” Jack asked, splaying his fingers over his chest as if he were offended.

Gabriel laughed.  _ Laughed _ . His Gabriel was there beside him, after years of Jack thinking he was dead and gone or too twisted and broken to be saved. Jack could hear him laugh again and thought it was worth dying for. If only he could see it. 

Jack felt around the door until he found the controls for the seat and slowly reclined, stretching out as best he could. He was trying to reconcile his internal map, but in a car it was... difficult. It was impossible to tell in these new hover cars; they drove so smooth that twenty miles an hour felt like one hundred miles an hour when you couldn’t watch the speedometer or see landscape rushing by.

Jack was dozing lightly when there was a beeping sound and he heard Gabriel tap the screen.

“Reaper.”   
  
He tensed but didn’t change his breathing. Without seeing the car, Jack had no way of knowing if it a video call.

“Akande,” Gabriel growled, “what do you want?”

“Talon has always given you a long leash, Reaper.” Doomfist always had such a charming tone. Always so in control, so certain that he was going to be obeyed. “Yet I get word that you’ve slaughtered an entire base just to get a car?”

“I’m bringing in Soldier: 76 ” Gabriel sounded pissed. “They were going to stop me.”

“He’s wanted dead.”

“I have my reasons.” Gabriel’s tone was cagey, Jack got the distinct image of a wild animal about to be cornered.

Jack had to work hard to keep his breathing even when Doomfist laughed. That… couldn’t be a good sign.

“I’m sure you do, my friend! And I trust you! You are heading to Annecy, no? Well, we’ll all be there to meet you. You can be here in less than two hours by air.”

“What?”

Jack forgot about pretending to be asleep when the hover tech suddenly shut off and the car went crashing to the ground in a squeal of metal on asphalt as the wheels slid across the ground. Jack and Gabriel let out twin shouts of shock as the car wrenched to the side and finally came to a stop. The acrid scent of sparks filled Jack’s nose as he sat up, clutching at the handle on the door.

“Akande! What the-” Gabriel sounded furious, but there was a certain catch in his voice that Jack had heard whenever something managed to shake him, “I don’t need a pick up!”

“Nonsense, my friend,” said Doomfist, his tone  _ aggressively _ friendly. “Why spend the next couple days driving when I can get you here today? You can wrap up your business with the vigilante, kill him, and get back to your real work.”

“No, I don’t want-”

Doomfist’s voice dipped dangerously. “That wasn’t a suggestion, my friend.”

There was silence. It wasn’t until Gabriel was swearing up a storm and thumping around in the driver’s seat that Jack was sure the call dropped. It sounded like he might be slamming his palms against the wheel.    
  
After his swearing fit passed, Jack said, “I don’t see the problem. You said back at the motel that nothing had changed--”

“I know what I fucking said!” Gabriel snarled.

Jack tried not to be smug, turning his head away to hide his smirk. Gabriel always liked to brag that no one would know Jack like he did, but he never seemed to grasp that it went both ways:. no one would know Gabriel as well as Jack.

The door opened and slammed shut. His own door was wrenched open and he was grabbed and yanked out, stumbling a little but catching himself on Gabriel’s arms. Gabriel wrenched away the moment Jack had his balance back. “What’s your fucking problem?” 

“I don’t have a fucking problem, Morrison,” Gabriel snapped, he sounded like he was standing just out of reach. “ _ Maybe _ I don’t want other people getting involved in this.  _ Maybe  _ the only person who gets to kill you is  _ me _ !”

“Sort of sounded like Doomfist was going to leave the honor to you.” Jack felt around until he found the car and leaned back against it, crossing his arms over his chest. “As a matter of fact, sounded like he was going to give you everything you wanted on a silver platter.”

The following silence was charged, like the hiss before a pot of water was about to start boiling. Jack tensed, expecting a fight, but Gabriel only whispered. “I’m going to enjoy putting a bullet in your brain. It’ll be a mercy killing.”

“Will you?” Jack challenged, standing up straight and shooting a glare in the direction of Gabriel’s voice.

“Yes!” Gabriel snapped, but to Jack’s ears it sounded more stubborn than bloodthirsty. Gabriel had never liked backing down when he’d set his mind to something. There was a distant roar of a ship arriving, which meant it had probably been sent even before Doomfist bricked their car.

“Well,” said Jack slowly, relaxing back against the car though he’d never been more tense on the inside. “I guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

The roar increased and soon wind was blowing around them as the ship started to land. It was so loud Jack had a hard time figuring out how close the ship was or in what direction. He covered his face with his arm as grass and dirt flew around them, whipping over him like a thousand stinging lashes.

Gabriel backed up against him, standing in front of him like a protective wall. Jack’s free hand curled around Gabriel’s shoulder, feeling how tense he was under his hoodie The roar faded until it was just the ringing in Jack’s ears. The pneumatic pumps hissed as the bay doors opened and the sound of boots followed as Talon soldiers marched out.

Jack slid his hand down Gabriel’s back and let him go.

“Let’s load up the prisoner,” said a muffled voice.

There was a pregnant pause as Jack held his breath and waited to see if he was right, that it wasn’t Reaper before him but Gabriel Reyes. Not nearly as dead as either of them had thought. If Gabriel Reyes was really dead and Reaper turned him over to Talon, then he vowed that Jack Morrison would die here and now, once and for all. Reaper wouldn’t get the satisfaction of killing Jack Morrison; he would only be killing a nameless soldier who had no history and felt no love.

“I had this under control,” Gabriel said lowly. “I was bringing him in myself.”

“Then load him up yourself, sir,” said the same Talon grunt. “We have cuffs here so he can’t make an escape.”

Gabriel didn’t move.

“Sir, we can be in Annecy by 0900.”

The air was growing thick with tension, and Jack’s hand slipped down to where his handgun  _ should _ have been. He was blind, unarmed, and at the mercy of whoever the man standing before him actually was. Jack just hoped his faith hadn’t been misplaced. He heard footsteps coming towards them and Gabriel tensed up further.

“Don’t fucking touch him.” Gabriel’s voice was like distant thunder, the threat of a storm upon the horizon.

“Men... take them both.”

Gabriel’s hand grabbed Jack by the hair and threw him to the ground just as the guns started to fire. Hellfire shotguns roared and men were screaming before they couldn’t scream anymore. Jack opened his eyes wide, as if he could force himself to see  _ something _ , but the darkness could not be chased away no matter how hard he wished it. A corpse flopped to the ground and Jack crawled towards it, hands running over the warm body, blood under his palms, until he found the assault rifle the grunt had been using.

Finally, a goddamn weapon! Jack got to his feet, but he wasn’t sure where Gabriel was and didn’t want to hit him. The frustration--the impotence--nearly choked him. Taking his sight was the cruelest possible thing life could have done to him. He heard a cry of pain to his right and brought the gun up against his shoulder and let instinct and training take over for him.

Jack had come to enjoy the smell clean acrid scent of pulse munitions, but nothing could quite replace the smell of gunpowder. He fired, following the sounds of feet and avoiding the sound of shotguns, though they were so loud it was difficult to pinpoint. His hearing was better than the average human’s, but he wasn’t a goddamn bat--he didn’t have fucking sonar. Jack did the best he could to drive back Talon and hoped Gabriel was smart enough to stay away from the spray of bullets.

Enemy fire whizzed past him, but either luck or fate kept him from getting hit. Eventually the sound of screaming and gunfire faded. Even while he was blind, an entire group of Talon soldiers was no match for Jack and Gabriel, . It soothed his ego a  _ little _ .

“Goddammit, Jack... you were supposed to stay  _ down _ !” Gabriel got up in Jack’s face and grabbed the rifle, wrenching it out of Jack’s hands and tossing it aside with a clatter.

Heart still racing with adrenaline and joy as he grabbed Gabriel by the front of his hoodie, Jack said, “You know me better than that.” He wasn’t sure if he pulled Gabriel forward, or if Gabe moved on his own, but they were kissing. All teeth and tongue and desperation, hands roaming everywhere they could reach.

Gabriel shoved Jack until his back hit the car and eagerly devoured his mouth, one gloved hand cupping the back of his neck to keep him close. Jack groaned and arched against Gabriel as he bit down on his bottom lip, the sting of pain making him a little dizzy. Jack pulled back with a small gasp and quickly put his hand on Gabriel’s face when he tried to move in again.

“Wait... shit, Gabe--” Jack broke off with a groan when two of his fingers were sucked into Gabriel’s mouth, tongue slipping between them, teeth gently biting. “Fuck, we can’t do this here. We need to get to Annecy.”

Gabriel pulled away. “I’ve decided we’re not going to Annecy anymore.”

There was a moment of silence while Jack tried to wrestle down his jolt of fear. “What?” he asked, voice a little strangled. If they didn’t go to Annecy to reunite with Ana, he wouldn’t get his vision back. Did Gabriel expect him to just  _ live _ like this? Blind and helpless?

“We’ll leave Europe,” said Gabriel. Jack could hear him pacing back and forth. “Go to America. I still have some Blackwatch safehouses that nobody knows about.”

“And just  _ hide _ ?” Jack snapped. “You expect  _ me _ to retire with  _ you _ to some shitty safehouse in God knows  _ where _ while Talon sends humanity into another Omnic Crisis?!”

“I expect you to act your fucking age and know when to put down the gun!” There was an edge to his voice that Jack couldn’t place.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Jack stepped forward and reached out until he felt Gabriel brush past his fingers, then quickly grabbed his arm and stopped him from pacing past. “There’s a war to be fought, we’re old soldiers, Gabe... the war doesn’t just get to be  _ over _ for us.”

Gabriel sucked in a breath. It sounded like the hiss of air escaping an old tire. “Jack,  _ you are dying _ . Can’t we just enjoy what time we have left? We finally get each other back after all these years, and you can’t even imagine spending your last years with me?”

He was  _ dying _ ? “Do you know something I don’t?” he asked a little nervously, hand running over his own chest as if he could feel an oncoming heart attack or perhaps some sort of aggressive cancer. His mother had passed of breast cancer, and though being a super soldier was supposed to protect him, Jack wasn’t so foolish as to think he was immune.

A gloved hand caught his, holding it tighter than was comfortable. “I don’t mean it like that. It’s just… time is taking you away from me.”

“I... wait... are you saying I’m getting old?” Jack let out an incredulous laugh. “Jesus, Gabe, I thought you could smell cancer or something.”

Gabriel was silent, grip on Jack’s hand still tight. Jack’s smile faded as he realized Gabe was being serious. They’d grown older together long before the fall, what was different now? Jack cleared his throat and reached out with his free hand to grip the front of Gabriel’s hoodie. “You’re older than I am.”

“I’m not... I don’t know what I am anymore,” Gabriel whispered. “I don’t know if I age, I don’t know if I can even die in a way that matters.”

Jack tried a different tact. “I’m not  _ that _ old. Reinhardt was older than I am now when he--” when  _ Jack _ forced him to “--retired.”

“Jack!” Gabriel suddenly snarled, hands grabbing Jack’s face. “You are  _ blind _ . SEP can’t protect you forever. You can fight now while you’re still fast, but how long until someone  _ else _ destroys your visor and kills you or you meet someone faster? Why can’t we just leave the fighting to others for once?”

Jack glared stubbornly. “We all die someday, Gabe. Maybe I’ll die of old age and maybe I won’t, but it’s going to happen.”

“Why rush it!? I’ve died, Jack, I don’t recommend it! Why do you have to fucking chase it?!”

“I’m not chasing death, damn you!” Jack shoved Gabriel’s chest. “I can’t predict the fucking future! What the  _ hell _ has gotten into you, Gabe? Why is this suddenly a problem? You tried to fucking kill me when Overwatch fell! You tried to kill me in Cairo! You’ve been threatening to kill me this entire trip! You, me, and death have been constant companions since we watched all our friends foam at the mouth and die in SEP!”

“Because I don’t want to lose you, you stupid asshole!” Gabriel yelled, moving in and slamming Jack back against the side of the car with his hands on either side of him, breath hot on his face. “Because I’m scared!”

There were exactly three times where Gabriel told him he was scared The first had been during a particularly bad shot during SEP as Jack had lay beside him and they both thought Gabriel wasn’t going to make it through the night. The second was just months before the explosion, probably after Gabriel had already betrayed them to Talon, Jack suspected. Long past when they’d stopped sharing personal things; long past when Jack knew he’d lost control of the organization and Gabriel.

The third was now.

“You’re scared of... what?” Jack asked slowly, realizing he’d never  _ actually _ asked before. Every time Gabriel had said he was scared Jack had just tried to shush and comfort him. In hindsight, he should’ve asked more questions.

Gabriel was silent for so long that Jack wondered if he was going to answer at all. He leaned in, their chests were pressed flush. Eventually his head dropped to Jack’s shoulder. “Death.” 

Jack blinked, one hand coming up to Gabriel’s beanie and shoving it off. The hair beneath it was grown out on top with shaved sides--just the way he’d once favored it as a younger man. “You? Scared of death? You just told me you’re dead... if anyone  _ shouldn’t  _ be scared--”

“Shut the fuck up, Morrison,” Gabriel muttered, sinking his teeth into Jack’s shoulder hard enough to make him wheeze. “As comforting as ever.”

“Sorry,” Jack grunted, turning his head to nuzzle against Gabriel’s temple, fingers still brushing idly through his hair.

“I don’t know what I am,” Gabriel continued, clearly wanting to get this off his chest if he was still willing to talk after Jack had stuck his foot in his mouth. “Alive? Dead? I don’t fucking--that’s not the goddamn point. What I’m trying to say is... I’ve always been scared of death.”

Jack thought back to the two other times Gabriel had admitted his fear; once when they thought Gabriel would die and the second time-- 

“Were you... dying? When Overwatch fell? When you spent all your time with O’Deorain?”

Gabriel let out a long breath, sagging against Jack like a great weight had been taken off his shoulders. “Yes.”

“That’s why you wanted her to join so bad,” Jack breathed, hand clenching in Gabriel’s hair. “That’s why... it’s why you trusted her so much.”

“It’s why I joined Talon.”

Gabriel reached up to remove Jack’s hand from his hair and stepped away. By the sound of it, he was pacing again. “She promised me she could reverse the damage being done by SEP. I didn’t have a choice--I was being eaten alive by my own body and I... I didn’t want to die.”

“So you betrayed Overwatch…  _ me _ ...” Jack sagged back against the car as he let out a long breath. It had to be the truth because it was so  _ shockingly _ selfish. Gabriel had always been a bit of a selfish person, he supposed. They had balanced each other so nicely because Jack had always been a bit self-sacrificial and Gabriel had reigned in his worst impulses to throw himself in front of bullets, while Gabriel had always told him he made him a better person. The second they stopped trusting each other, Jack could no longer temper Gabriel’s worst tendencies and in return, Jack had nearly worked himself to death trying to save the dregs of Overwatch.

After a long moment, Jack broke up the sound of Gabriel’s pacing.“You didn’t tell me because you thought I had betrayed you already.” 

“Yes.”

“But if you thought I was Talon, why did you turn on me? You had already betrayed us by the time of our fight and the explosion at Swiss HQ.”

“I didn’t think you were Talon,” Gabriel sighed, footsteps sounding like he was slowing down a little, “I thought you were compromised... or sabotaging me. When I joined Talon I  _ knew _ you weren’t on its roster... and by then I was so consumed with fear and anger and bitterness... it didn’t matter what you had or hadn’t done.”

“God, what a fucking mess,” Jack groaned, rubbing his palms against his eyes. Looking back, there were a million different places where either of them could have reached out, said something, and prevented so much.

“But all that doesn’t matter anymore!” Gabriel yanked Jack’s hands off his eyes by his wrists and pinned them against the side of the car. “Dammit, Jack, let’s just go! To America. Home!”

“We don’t have a home!” Jack said sharply, “and you  _ know _ that! You can run away if you want, but I’m going to Annecy!”

“And exactly how are you going to get there?”

“I’ll figure it out,” said Jack stiffly, stubbornly, knowing it was possibly the dumbest thing he could do. He didn’t know where the hell he was and whatever road the car had crashed on obviously wasn’t well traveled.

“Goddammit, Jack,” Gabriel growled under his breath, “we come together again after all these years and we’re already arguing.”

“Oh...” Jack let out a sudden bark of laughter. “I guess old habits die hard.”

Some of the tension melted away between them. Jack reached out until he felt Gabriel’s hoodie and pulled him close again. “I never stopped loving you.”

“No… me neither,” Gabriel sighed, his hands settling on the car on either side of Jack’s head. “Would have been easier if I had.”

Jack could readily agree to that. He leaned in and his lips found Gabriel’s cheek, and he nuzzled down until he found his mouth, coaxing him into a slow kiss. Just the brush of their lips and their noses bumping together now and again. Jack pulled back after a bit, blind eyes seeking Gabriel’s, hoping he was looking at him. “Even if... even if we can’t repair my visor, I  _ have _ to go to Annecy. Ana is there waiting for me.”

“I should have known,” Gabriel said a bit wryly. “When this ship doesn’t return, Akande will know I’ve turned on them.”

Jack paused, hand sliding to Gabriel’s chest, “What if it  _ did _ return though? I can’t see the model but... you used to fly all kinds of craft in Blackwatch. Could you fly this one?”

“Jack...” Gabriel warned.

“ _ Could you _ ?”

“Yes, damn you... I could fly it.”

“Then I’ve got an idea.”

Jack changed into his old clothes, finding comfort in their utility and the weight of the leather jacket. The ear pieces would be in range of Ana’s soon, and hopefully she was alert and ready to spring into action. Jack trusted her. He patted his jacket making sure the data pad was still there, and placed his hands behind his back so Gabriel could cuff him up. He’d put his faith in him and hadn’t been betrayed yet... now Jack had to do it again and this time in the lion’s den itself. The manacles were sturdy, but not enough to keep him should he strain to get out of them. They were just for show.

“Are you sure about this?” Gabriel asked nervously as he led Jack to his seat and buckled him in. Jack heard him walk off and sit down in the cockpit. This aircraft seemed to have a very open, cargo-esque design. No doubt for carrying a great deal of soldiers and weapons without prioritizing comfort.

“I’m sure I trust you,” said Jack resolutely.

“Might be the last thing you’re ever sure of,” said Gabriel darkly. “I could drive us to America right now. This thing is full of fuel and you couldn’t do anything about it.”

“You won’t.”

“Fuck you, Morrison.”

Jack flexed his fingers as Gabriel activated the craft, the wings engaging as it lifted off the ground. 

He’d told Gabriel everything he needed to know, but that didn’t mean their plan would work. They knew all too well how fast even the best laid plans turned to shit, and if this fucked up he knew for sure he’d be killed. At least he’d die knowing his Gabriel was alive, having tasted his lips one last time. This whole trip has been a blurring of past and present, what was and what is. They weren’t the same men who kissed while the cicadas screamed, but they also weren’t the same men who’d fought amongst the Talon servers. Who they were now was unknown.

With no sight to see what Gabriel was doing, his doubts threatened him over the next two hours. Was he flying over the right shops, or low enough to send the flashing signal to Ana, alerting her to check their secured line? Was Gabriel flying to Annecy at all? All Jack could do was sit and hope, a position he wasn’t used to being in but one he’d been forced into more times than he could count in the past few days.

There was a pop in his ear and he straightened up as the line opened.

“Jack?”

Hearing her voice nearly choked him, but Jack was nothing if not a professional when he answered clearly. “Ana.”

“What the hell is going on? Is that a Talon ship?” she asked incredulously. “Have you been captured?”

“In a way,” said Jack, knowing Gabriel was only hearing one side of this conversation. “Gabriel is flying the aircraft--he’s taking me to the Château. I am going to have to close this line in a second, so listen carefully: we are pretending to turn me in so my visor can be repaired and then we’re going to escape. We need your cover. Do you have intel on getting on and off the island should the aircraft not be available to us?”

Ana, bless her, was also a perfect professional, asking no questions they didn’t have time for. “On the west side of the Château there is a natural sort of cove created by the cliffs. I will have a boat down there. I assume you two aren’t too old for a little cliff jumping?”

Jack laughed. “Too old? Probably. We’ll do it anyway. Where will you be?”

“The Château has plenty of little hidey-holes for an old woman. I assure you I will be jumping that cliff beside you.”

Jack let out a long breath; he never felt safer than when he knew Ana had his back. “See you soon.”

He reached up to drop the line, then pulled the earpieces off and slipped them into his inner pocket. He’d still need them for when he got his visor back.  _ When _ , because Jack refused to believe there was a scenario where he spent the rest of his life blind and helpless. 

“Reaper here,” Gabriel growled from up front. “I’m coming in for a landing with the prisoner. He killed the soldiers  _ you _ sent and nearly escaped.”

“You should have had him properly secured before they arrived,” came Doomfist’s voice. He sounded annoyed.

“I was expecting seasoned professionals, not boys in costume. This wouldn’t have happened if you’d let me do this my own way,” Gabriel snapped back. “What’s done is done. I’m taking him to a holding cell. His visor needs to be repaired before I kill him.”

“This is an awful lot of work for one death” Doomfist’s voice was disconcertingly silky and quiet.

“It’s a death long overdue,” said Gabriel, so coldly that Jack shivered a little, “and you said I could do it my way.”

“I did, I did...” Doomfist said softly. “I won’t interfere.”

They could only hope to be so lucky.

Jack was jostled a bit in his seat as the aircraft landed, hearing Gabriel flipping switches on the dash before he got up and grabbed Jack. “I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch!” Jack yelled as he was swung over Gabriel’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. There was no way of knowing who was listening now, no way of knowing who could see them.

Gabriel chuckled darkly. “I’m already dead, Jackie-boy.”

The air outside the craft was cool--cool enough that Jack could feel it through his leather jacket. He took a deep breath and smelled leaves rotting on the ground and the chill of oncoming winter. He couldn’t hear anyone around them, but that didn’t mean people weren’t there. He tested the manacles, listened to them rattle, and struggled to get free without breaking them. Gabriel dropped him and grabbed him by the front of his jacket. “Enough!” 

Jack gasped as he was backhanded, head ringing with the force of the hit. Gabriel never pulled his punches, the bastard. Jack spat out a mouthful of blood where his teeth had cut into his cheek.

“Go to hell!”

“I’ll see you there!”

He bared his teeth and snarled like a wild animal as he was grabbed by the manacles and dragged over what felt like stone flooring. Feet were approaching, someone small by how little sound they made when they walked. 

“Ooooh, look what the Reaper dragged in,” said a teasing voice.

“Enough, Sombra,” Gabriel snapped, still dragging Jack over the floor by his wrists.

“Well, I just thought you might want my  _ help _ ,” Sombra said a bit pointedly. “You told Akande you were going to fix his visor.”

Gabriel paused and Jack strained against the manacles again, back and shoulders aching fiercely. He got a boot to the side for his troubles and wheezed, twisting and trying to curl up to protect himself.  _ Have faith, have faith, have faith _ .

“What would you know about repairing that? Widow does all her own work. I was going to have her do it.”

“Oh sure,” said Sombra dismissively, “she could repair it, but  _ I _ have the blueprints for his original. Give me an hour and I could have a replica made.”

Gabriel was quiet for a second, and then he started to drag Jack again. “I want it done right... two hours.”

“Two hours,” Sombra agreed cheerfully, “and then maybe we could all go on a boat ride together? Let him see the sun one last time?”

Jack let out a strangled sound but tried to disguise it as a sound of pain. Had Sombra been listening to his secured line with Ana?  _ Sombra _ ... he remembered Gabriel saying that name when they’d taken the car, so she had at the very least been aware of their movements. How much did she really  _ know _ though? Gabriel seemed to think she was to be trusted, which left Jack without much of a choice.

Gabriel grunted and Jack didn’t hear Sombra walk away, but she  _ was _ gone. He couldn’t hear her breathing or the shifting of her clothes. One moment she was there and the next not. Jack hissed as he was suddenly picked up and tossed onto the stone floor. A door slam shut.

“I’ll be back with you shortly, Jackie,” Gabriel whispered, it sounded convincing enough that Jack had to remind himself that that wasn’t actually a threat.

So he was left. Alone. In the darkness. 

If Gabriel had always been afraid of death, then Jack had always been afraid of being trapped in the dark. Jack took a deep breath and tried to calm his beating heart, but it still throbbed so loudly he feared it was echoing in the cell around him for all to hear, the darkness a crushing weight upon him. It was a stupid fear, one he’d never shared with anyone, but one he’d carried since he’d been a child and a pile of hay bales had toppled over and buried him.

Jack took a deep breath and smelled the musty scent of hay all over again. The way the bales and heat suffocated him, the straw poking and scratching him as he struggled to free himself. There was only darkness and silence except for his own panicked breathing and sobbing. Jack’s breath hitched; he twisted on the ground as if to remind himself that he wasn’t crushed under anything at all, but the musty smell remained in his nose. He could still remember how the dust from the hay had clogged up his nostrils, how he’d sucked in a deep breath and then coughed until he’d nearly vomited.

The darkness was so much easier when he wasn’t alone and could hear Gabriel’s voice or reach out and touch him. To be left alone in it was his worst nightmare. That day on the farm he’d been alone, and on the day the Swiss HQ had collapsed, he’d been alone then, too.

Jack rolled onto his back, even though it meant he was lying on his bound wrists, and spread his legs out, lifting them up to place his boots against the wall. He wasn’t trapped. He was fine. Deep breaths, in and out, just like he’d been trained. Jack let his eyes dart around as if he could catch a  _ glimpse _ of the room around him, its shape and dimensions. Eventually he got tired of wishing and just got back to his feet, dragging his shoulder along the walls and counting the steps.

A small cell, but not claustrophobically so; it was seven strides by five strides and the door felt like it was made of a thick wood reinforced with iron. He gave it a test kick but it didn’t even creak. Even as strong as he was, Jack knew he wasn’t busting out of this cell. He had to keep reminding himself that Gabriel was coming back for him, that he  _ was _ Gabriel and not Reaper playing some sick game.

He paced up and down the cell, wondering how Ana was doing and where Gabriel was. Darkness and waiting... his two least favorite things. Jack finally sat down against the wall, he couldn’t get the smell of hay out of his nose, but he didn’t feel like he was about to panic. It couldn’t have been more than an hour, but it  _ felt _ like longer, when Jack heard footsteps coming towards his cell. He got to his feet, glaring at the door as it rattled and was wrenched open.

“Strike-Commander Morrison in the flesh... remember me?”

“Doomfist,” said Jack coldly.

“I’m here to escort you to your final resting place.”

Jack flinched as he was grabbed by the doomfist itself, based on the size of the hand and how unforgiving the metal was even through his leather jacket. “Where’s my visor?” he asked, gruff as he was pulled out of the room.

“You’re not getting that until the very last moment,” said Doomfist. “No... we have something else in mind for you. Moira’s idea.”

Jack shivered, stopping in his tracks only to get yanked forward. His blood curdled at the thought of being in the same room as her again. Jack had never liked her; he liked her even less now after learning she’d manipulated Gabriel’s fear and got him to betray his family. To betray  _ Jack _ . He was hauled into a room and felt the heat of the sun on his skin. It had to be windows. 

“Commander Morrison, it’s so good to see you again.” Moira’s voice dripped over him like an oil spill, making him feel sick and smothered. “A pity you can’t say the same.”

“Aren’t you clever, doctor,” Jack snapped, giving a token struggle before he was picked up and slammed down onto what felt like an operating table.

“I know we’ve never quite seen eye-to-eye.” Her voice was a low purr as Jack’s feet were strapped to the table, his manacles undone so his wrists could be strapped down as well. “However, I hope you are capable of understanding that your death will lead to amazing scientific advancements. You’re the only remaining living member of SEP, did you know that? I’d like to cut you open and see what makes you tick.”

“You can’t kill me!” Jack snarled, testing the leather straps around his wrist. He likely could rip out of them, but knew he shouldn’t play his cards too quickly.

“No, of course not,” Moira hummed. He could hear her messing with some metal implements and sweat beaded on his forehead. “I just want to harvest some parts while you’re still alive. Nothing you’re using, of course. So fascinating that you went blind despite your high-rate of regeneration... knowing why could prevent bodily degeneration for future soldiers.”

Years ago, when Overwatch had still been the world’s golden child and Jack had been Strike-Commander for a couple years, the opportunity to potentially breathe life into the dregs of SEP had slid across his desk in an innocent-looking manila folder. Just a few papers he had to sign and that would have launched a new program. Instead, Jack burned the old facility with all its files, servers, and everything they’d ever learned to the ground. 

He and Gabriel had been the only survivors even then--everyone else killed during the program or just after. The pain they went through... Jack didn’t want anyone else to ever feel that. That program had represented the murder of men and women desperate to serve their country, each and every one of them dying as their body ate itself or something equally horrible. Watching his fellows fall one by one... it stays with a man, it haunted Jack. They were created out of desperation, and Jack swore as he watched the fire lick the sky that such desperation would never be needed again.

Perhaps what had happened to Gabriel had happened to them, a suspicion that only strengthened his conviction now that he’d done the right thing.

He blinked hard as he heard Moira pick something up. Jack knew Doomfist was still there, breathing and shifting beside the table. “Did you do all this to Gabriel too?” he blurted, trying to distract her.

“You wouldn’t know anything about it,” Moira said silkily,voice sounding like it was above him, as if looming over Jack. “You didn’t know much about anything, did you, commander?”

Jack jerked over the table as he felt something touch him, but it was only her hand on his cheek. “What did you do to him, you  _ bitch _ ?” he snarled, trying to wrench his head away from her touch, his skin crawling.

“I saved his life,” Moira said. She sounded amused. “ _ You _ weren’t going to do it.  _ Angela _ wasn’t going to do it... only I could save him. He would have wasted away without me. Now look at him...,” there was a short, pointed pause. Jack could already feel the inevitable jab at his blindness coming before Moira added, “when you can.”

Doomfist spoke up. “Are you in contact with other Overwatch agents?” 

“No,” Jack said sharply, hissing as he felt cold metal brush against him just under his left eye.

“There was a recall,” said Doomfist, placing his flesh hand around Jack’s neck and gripping his jaw tightly to keep him from turning his head away from the scalpel Moira was wielding close by, the cold metal touching him now and again. Jack was hardly surprised: torture and science often seemed to go hand-in-hand with Moira. . 

God, where was Gabriel? He’d even welcome Sombra right now. Had Ana been caught? Was Doomfist just toying with him? 

“I didn’t answer the recall. They all think I’m dead.” It was the truth at least. He also knew where a lot of the agents were scattered, but he’d lose his tongue before revealing their locations.

“Tsk, you must think I’m stupid, commander,” said Doomfist, his tone... amused. They were asking him questions because they could, but Jack got the impression that they didn’t care if he talked or not. 

“Stupid? No,” Jack breathed, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt a sharp blade ever so gently brush through his eyelashes, “I think you’re both incompetent. Angela was twice the scientist you are, Moira. You’re a hack, no better than the little kid who cuts open live frogs just to watch their heart beat. And Doomfist? You’re no more than any other warmonger, you’ll barely be a footnote in history.”

“Are you done?” Moira asked after a moment, sounding completely unaffected by the insults.

Plan be damned, he wasn’t losing one of his eyes. Jack yanked his arms free of the leather straps and grabbed Doomfist around the neck, curling up against his chest for leverage as he broke the straps around his ankles. Doomfist snarled, hand tightening around Jack’s neck, trying to shove him back down, and he went without a struggle, bringing his legs up and wrapping them around Doomfist’s neck, thighs squeezing as he wrenched to the side and slammed him against the operating table.

They’d obviously forgotten just how strong SEP had made him. Jack knew it was only the surprise and lack of oxygen that was keeping his head from getting crushed like a melon. Against the gauntlet, there was no contest. He twisted when the hand on his neck relaxed and rolled off the table. The scalpel brushed his cheek, Jack felt no pain in all the excitement but blood slid down his face from a fresh cut. He didn’t know in which direction to run, so he ran towards the sun on his face, hoping it led to a door or window.

“You think you can escape?” Doomfist called, stalking after him in no hurry.

He held his hands out before him, pausing until he felt glass and then backed up and darted forward, arms over his face as he burst through the window and out onto some kind of balcony. Cold air rushed around him as he darted forward, hands out until he hit a waist-high stone fence that he nearly flipped over.

“Please, this is so embarrassing,” Moira said from just behind him. He could hear them crunching over the glass below. “I said I wasn’t going to kill you, commander.”

Jack stood on the stone ledge, unsure if there were rocks or water below him. The lake lapped beneath him; he was a strong swimmer but underwater he knew he might have a hard time finding his way back to the surface. Assuming he didn’t bash himself on the rocks along the way. 

Where the hell was Gabriel? Had they done something to him? He turned around, standing straight as he shifted backwards until his heels hung out over the abyss, only the balls of his feet keeping him from tipping over.

“Drown or be shot by Reaper,” said Doomfist coldly, “we don’t really care either way. What are you going to do, swim to shore? You’re all alone, Jack Morrison. Your friends are gone, all dead or scattered, and you said it yourself... they already think you’re dead. No one will mourn you.”

Gabriel would mourn him. Ana would mourn him. It was that thought that kept him from just jumping. They were supposed to be here for him, and... and if he trusted them... Jack swayed a little as a breeze blew past him. Soldier: 76 would jump--he would jump and damn the consequences. 

Jack let out a long breath and stepped down off the ledge. Doomfist grabbed him and dragged him forward. He trusted his family. He trusted Gabriel and Ana. 

“Good, it would be harder to harvest you properly if you’d burst open on those rocks,” said Moira coolly.

Jack didn’t know if she was just messing with him or not, but it didn’t matter much.

“What the  _ hell _ is going on?”

_ Gabriel _ . A little late, but still here.

Jack schooled his face so none of his joy showed, curling his lips like he was sneering.

“Nice of you to join us.” Moira sounded like an oil slick over water.

“I went to his cell and he wasn’t there!” Gabriel was spitting mad. “Akande, he is  _ mine _ to do with as I please!”

“And you will, my friend,” said Doomfist, his hand was still a vice on Jack’s arm. “Dr. O’Deorain here just had some thoughts about harvesting a few parts first, and I wanted to see if we could get some information out of him.”

“ _ Harvesting a few parts _ ?!” Gabriel choked out furiously.

“Nothing he was using.” Moira’s tone was calm, completely unintimidated by Gabriel’s fury. “Just his eyes.”

Jack felt himself grabbed and wrenched away from Doomfist, claws piercing through his jacket. Gabriel was back in his Reaper costume. “You can  _ wait _ , O’Deorain. His time will come soon enough.”

Moira let out a long suffering sigh. “You’re not much fun, are you, Gabriel?”

“Went with me to the grave and didn’t come out again,” Gabriel growled, dragging Jack away. They walked in silence, Gabriel’s grip on his arm bruising but Jack wasn’t about to complain. There was no way for him to talk or show how much trust he was putting in Gabriel without potentially blowing everything. Instead, he kept scowling. 

They walked long enough that Jack thought they’d gone all the way to the other side of the house, and he realized--hoped--that this was where Ana’s boat was to wait for them. He was shoved down into a chair, his hands cuffed behind him and his ankles manacled: easily broken chains for when it was time to escape.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” said Gabriel smugly, clawed gauntlets cupping Jack’s face and tilting it back. “You’re pretty now, Jack, but I think you’ll be beautiful with your brains dripping down the side of your face.”

Jack bared his teeth and tried to pull away from Gabriel’s grip. “You’ve always been a poet.” He’d never been much of an actor, not like Gabriel, who’d always been so good in Blackwatch, able to slip in and out of whatever undercover roll he needed. Even McCree, a man who dressed like a fucking cowboy, had been a better actor than Jack.

But he was trying his goddamn hardest right now.

He heard steps, Doomfist, Moira and... a third person. Sombra, perhaps? Or... wait... where was Widowmaker? She was the only person he hadn’t heard.   


Jack sucked in a small breath as he felt one of Gabriel’s shotguns slide over his temple and he tried to lean away, only to have his neck grabbed to force him to hold still. “Everyone’s here to watch the show, are they?” 

“Of course,” Gabriel hissed, “I know you love being the center of attention.” 

All at once, several things happened.

Doomfist furiously shouted, “ _ What _ !?” as a sniper rifle fired with a vicious  _ crack! _ that echoed around them. Jack was grabbed by the front of his jacket and yanked up off his feet and over Gabriel’s shoulder. He grunted as Gabriel started to run, bouncing on his shoulder as he heard a scuffle break out and another loud  _ crack!, _ followed by the sound of breaking glass. What about his visor?! Everything was happening too fast, their plan scattering around them and leaving Jack just as blind and helpless as when he’d been dragged in. The  _ only _ reason they’d even done this was to get him the fucking visor!

Doomfist roared. “GABRIEL!” 

“Ana, shoot him again!” Gabriel snarled as he ran.

Jack didn’t have his earpieces in, but he heard the sound of  _ something _ whizzing past them and then the sound of a body hitting the ground and sliding. He wrenched his hands and legs apart, easily breaking the chains and not a moment too soon. There was another  _ crack! _ and Gabriel fell to the ground with a sound of pain that sent Jack rolling over the stone with a grunt.

“No time to rest!” Sombra said, her hands small and weak as she grabbed Jack and tried to pull him up. 

“Help Gabriel!” Jack snapped, shrugging her off and stumbling to his feet.

“¡ _ Qué grosero _ !"

“I’m fine, I’m fine!” said Gabriel, but his voice sounded strained. “We have to get out of here  _ now _ !”

Jack reached out in the direction of Gabriel’s voice, grabbing him by the wrist so they could run together. Sombra’s light feet were pattering over the stone ahead of them. All he could do was hope a bullet didn’t tear into his back, hope that Gabriel wasn’t bleeding out, that this could all be dealt with later when they were  _ safe _ and together. 

“Jump!” Gabriel yelled.

Gabriel didn’t give him much of a choice, not that he would have hesitated anyway; Jack was still holding his wrist when he vaulted the stone ledge and dragged him in after. He let go of Gabriel as they fell, trying to cover his face and brace himself for impact. Falling was disorienting when you couldn’t see which way was supposed to be up. He hit the shockingly cold water and went under, resisting the urge to draw in a startled breath. Jack couldn’t tell which way was up or down in the freezing darkness as he twisted this way and that, hoping he could figure out which way his body wanted to float. Something hot brushed by his cheek and he jerked backwards with a silent cry, releasing most of his air.

They were being shot at in the water.

Someone grabbed him by the ankle and tugged, and Jack realized he must have been swimming down. Suddenly he was pulled up and hauled into a boat, coughing and gasping for air. Now he could hear the shots and rumbling of a motor as several people tripped over each other as they got in.

“GO GO GO!” Gabriel yelled, another bullet screaming by them.

“Always so bossy,” Ana teased, calm and in control as always. Jack felt such visceral relief at hearing her voice that he sagged against the bottom of the boat; when he’d heard that first bullet he’d feared the worst. The boat shot forward, the wind whipping over him even as he lay on the bottom of the boat.

“That could have gone better,” he breathed, slowly sitting up and snorting some water out of his nose.

“Stupid boys,” Ana tsked, “why even go in there?”

“I think he wanted  _ this _ ,” Sombra said playfully, and something was waved in Jack’s face. He eagerly snatched at it, letting out a shuddering breath as he felt the familiar curves of his mask. They were on the run, bullets still firing at them and Ana driving evasively, but Jack fumbled in his soaking jacket for the rest of his mask.

The earpieces and connections at his jaw and chin were put on with practiced ease. Finally, he clicked the visor into place. Nothing happened at first, and Jack feared that perhaps his mask could never be replicated. He would be blind for the rest of his life, forced to retire, old and bitter and--there was a flicker in the darkness. Then another. The visor engaged and he blinked as the world opened up around him in familiar shades of red.

“Oh thank God,” he nearly sobbed with relief, looking at Ana at the wheel of the boat and the woman with the long hair and shaved sides that must be Sombra. She peered at him curiously. Nearby stood Gabriel, completely dressed in his kit. 

“Take off your mask,” Jack challenged, reaching up to touch it, his wrist caught instead.

“Not now,” said Gabriel, speaking over the sound of the engine.

Jack supposed that was fair.

Ana docked them haphazardly at the furthest end of the lake and they all ran off the boat. Jack was overjoyed at being able to  _ see _ where he was running finally. If only he could have his rifle back he’d feel complete.

“We need to separate,” said Ana as they dove into some underbrush of the surrounding forest. “We’ll be too easy to track in a group this big.”

“We’ll meet at the rendezvous point,” Jack promised, and Ana looked at him and smiled before she peeled off.

“I’ll be there.” Sombra blew a kiss and winked before her body flickered and seemed to disappear. Jack could still hear her running off in another direction through the brush. He didn’t get the chance to ask how the hell she knew where they were going.

Jack and Gabriel didn’t even pretend they were going to seperate, running together until the forest ended and they could find a car to steal. He let Gabriel drive, unable to stop staring at him. Jack let his eyes trace along every inch of Gabriel, even if he was covered in a costume. After all, he’d never gotten a good chance to just to  _ look _ at Reaper before.

“Take off the mask,” Jack repeated after they’d been driving for hours.

Gabriel let out a long breath. “ _ No _ , dammit. Jack... I’ll do it, just...not right now.”

They drove in silence for the next several hours, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Jack had Gabriel back, he had his vision back... there was hope now. He reached into his jacket and pulled out the data pad, hoping his swim hadn’t fried it. Most data pads were waterproof nowadays, but you could never be completely sure.

“What’s that?” Gabriel asked, though he didn’t take his eyes off the road.

“The information I was getting when you ambushed me,” said Jack. It seemed like ages ago but really, it had been no more than a week at the most, just based on how often they’d slept versus how many hours Jack thought he’d counted on his internal clock. 

“What kind of information?”

Jack touched the screen, turning the pad on. “I don’t know exactly, I’ve been a bit busy,” said wryly, “and they don’t make computer data in braille just yet.”

Gabriel snorted. The screen flickered and Jack was met with a sugar skull, the calling card of his contact. One look at Sombra earlier made it was pretty clear whose card it really was, though. She was playing a deep game; she’d told Jack where to get this information and no doubt told Gabriel where to find  _ him _ . If this was her end goal, she had a funny way of getting there.

After the skull blinked off the screen, a massive scroll of what looked like complete gibberish appeared. Jack had never been  _ great _ with computers. He was more of a mechanic than an IT guy, but years with Overwatch had taught him enough to know that everything on the data pad was encrypted six ways to Sunday. He groaned and turned it off, tucking it away in his jacket.

“I guess it’s a good thing your friend is on our side,” he said, looking out the window and watching the scenery rush by.

“Yeah,” Gabriel rumbled. “Let me guess: you want to use all that information to take Talon down.”

“I want it crushed,” said Jack darkly, eyes narrowing as his hands clenched into fists. “They took you away from me.”

It was 0500 by the time Gabriel pulled into a beat up old motel, the sign flickering and buzzing in the night. Jack was exhausted as he ducked out of the car and shut the door with a snap. He’d get the room while Gabriel dumped the stolen car somewhere and came back. They’d chosen this particular motel because it was the sort that drug dealers and prostitutes favored. It was unmanned, run solely by a machine that Jack punched a fake name into and slid some euros in to buy a room. He waited for Gabriel to come walking back into the parking lot, the old concrete cracked from age and use, and led the way up the stone stairs to their room. The room was dusty with a sagging queen-sized bed and cracked TV. Jack sat on the edge of the mattress in a squeal of old springs and started to undo his boots and kick them off.

Beside him, Gabriel pulled off his costume piece by piece: the big belts, the armored boots, the hooded overcoat. Jack was in just his pants and mask by the time Gabriel peeled off the clawed gauntlets, clearly taking an awfully long time to get undressed. 

Even with the visor making everything shades of red, Jack could tell Gabriel was too pale, like the dark color in his skin and been leached away. For a man afraid of death, the specter had left its mark upon him, leaving Gabriel looking ashen.

“Come here,” said Jack quietly, reaching up and flicking his fingers pointedly.

Gabriel paused and then walked over, only to fall to his knees before Jack, hands on his thighs and mask looking up at him. Vulnerable. Trusting. Jack took Gabriel’s bare hands in his own, feeling and  _ seeing _ how his nails were like claws themselves, the tips of his fingers stained black. Jack reached up to cup the mask, peering into the dark holes and seeing nothing beyond them.

“I love you,” he said gruffly.

“I know,” said Gabriel, hands tightening on Jack’s thighs before he relaxed them again; his only sign of nerves.

Jack slowly pulled the mask off and got his first look at Gabriel in years. He looked... not exactly the same as the last day they’d fought, but very similar. His sclera was black, irises bright and blood red as he looked up into Jack’s visor. He still had his well-groomed facial hair, which Jack had felt before, but what he couldn’t feel was how the black was now liberally shot through with lighter tones. The unfamiliar scars on Gabriel’s face were patterned like burns, and Jack got a flash to the explosion that had ripped them apart. His hair was messy from being under the mask but Jack brushed it into some semblance of order before sliding his fingers down.

“Still as handsome as ever.” He traced the burn on Gabriel’s cheek gently and cupped his jaw. “I don’t know what you were afraid of.”

Gabriel took Jack’s hand in his and held on, never breaking eye contact as his skin started to crack and black blood seeped out before Jack’s eyes. Jack jerked in surprise but didn’t pull away, aware of Gabriel’s grip on his hand and the intense look in his eye. He was  _ expecting _ Jack to be disgusted, to turn away and refuse him. The skin slowly melted until he saw the flash of Gabriel’s pale jaw bone. The decomposition spread further until he could see the clenched teeth through his cheek. The eye above the hole in his cheek shriveled up and disappeared into an empty socket. Finally it stopped and Jack was left staring at the desiccated face of his lover.

“Oh,” he said, more of a breath than a word.

“See what I am now,” said Gabriel bitterly, his grip tight enough to be painful.

The soft smell of rot that seemed to follow Gabriel everywhere suddenly made sense. Jack pulled his hand free, but before Gabriel could get the wrong idea, he reached up to cup his ruined face gently. Gabriel’s face was tacky with blood, and drool escaped the hole on the left side of his face where his cheek had melted away and left only the permanent grin of a skeleton. Jack slowly tilted his head back to look into his remaining eye and reached up to remove the bottom half of his own mask and set it aside.

“I see Gabriel Reyes,” said Jack honestly, “a man I’ve loved for over twenty years. Handsome... a bit vain. Always fussing over what he looks like.”

Gabriel’s voice cracked. “Jack.” 

Jack bent down and caught his lips in a kiss, even though they were tattered and bloody. He kept his eyes open, if only to watch how Gabriel’s eye fluttered shut as he leaned into the kiss. It wasn’t like it wasn’t shocking or weird--or a little horrifying--but considering the alternative was  _ not _ having Gabriel’s lips against his... it was nothing. Jack had lost too much to let this get between them.

They pulled apart and he watched as Gabriel’s face scrunched up and the skin repaired itself into something that looked fairly normal again Now Jack could see the strain in his eyes, how it clearly took effort to hold himself together like this and present a whole face.

“You don’t have to--”

“I want to,” said Gabriel sharply, standing up with his hands on Jack’s thighs and getting in his face. 

Jack’s lips curled into a small smile as he brought his hands to Gabriel’s waist, fingers running along the brim of his pants. “Is that what you wanted to show me before you killed me?”

Gabriel pushed Jack back until he was laying out over the bed, Gabriel hovering over him. “Hmm, guess I’ll have to kill you now.”

“Jack Morrison isn’t an easy man to kill,” he warned again, fingers tracing up and down Gabriel’s sides, trying to bunch up his shirt to get to his skin.

“No,” Gabriel agreed, sitting up and pulling off his shirt to toss it aside, “but I’ve given him plenty of little deaths over the years.”

Jack laughed. “That’s the  _ only _ French I really remember. You only ever taught me the dirty stuff.”

Gabriel smiled and Jack ached to see it again, the way his eyes crinkled up in the corners and how white and straight his teeth were behind full lips.  _ God _ he was beautiful. “You just never remember the useful stuff.”

“I remember some,” he said defensively, grunting as Gabriel started grinding against him. “I remember--ah fuck--I remember  _ eres hermosa _ and ung--” Jack hissed and arched as Gabriel ground down a little harder. They still had their pants on but Jack was fumbling to get his undone. “Um,  _ te amo _ !”

Gabriel laughed, a full-bodied laugh. “Your accent is as  _ atrocious _ as ever. Tell me you love me in French.”

“ _ Je t'aime _ .” Gabriel laughed harder. “You know, it’s not conducive to learning when your teacher laughs every time you try to--” Gabriel shut him up with a kiss and Jack was all too happy to wrap his arms around him and kiss him back with fervor.

They didn’t talk much after that. Jack got his cock out with a sigh against Gabriel’s lips, and he felt Gabriel’s hand between them, getting his own hard flesh out so they could grind together. It was dry where they weren’t sweating on each other but it didn’t matter much to Jack. He  _ wanted _ more than he’d ever wanted in his life. They kissed and rocked until their skin was slick with cum and their cocks and grown soft, but still their lips brushed and their bodies gently ground together like they could be one person and never have to say goodbye again.

Jack pulled back for a breath and rested their foreheads together, feeling how Gabriel bumped up against his visor.   
  
“Take it off?” Gabriel whispered.

Jack reached up and let it disconnect with a click, handing it to Gabriel so he could move it out of the way. The darkness wasn’t so scary when Gabriel was laying over him and their noses could brush together, their lips meeting in lazy little kisses.

They had allies and information, but Jack couldn’t think of anything better than having each other again. There was so much they hadn’t talked about yet, old and new fights no doubt just waiting to be had; but here, now, Jack had everything he could possibly want. Tomorrow they could go back out and face the war he refused to stop fighting. He could put on the mask and he could be Soldier: 76, wanted vigilante.

For now, he basked in the sound of Gabriel’s quiet breathing, the feeling of his facial hair against his cheeks. They fit together like they’d been made for each other, and all these years apart had only cemented that in his mind. Losing Gabriel had been worse than losing his sight. He could compensate for blindness in many ways; there were technologies to help him, skills he could learn. But Gabriel? Nothing could replace his partner, lover, best friend.

Let those bitter fights come; Jack wasn’t the same man who’d let everything fall apart. He’d stumbled into a second chance and things would be different this time.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Gabriel whispered against his forehead.

“Jealous?” Jack teased automatically.

“Watch it, Morrison.”

Gladly.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: [ohgodsalazarwhy](https://ohgodsalazarwhy.tumblr.com/)  
> Twitter:[ NoviceSalazar](https://twitter.com/NoviceSalazar)


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